


Lena Luthor: hot girl bummer

by Rouser



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Sports, Basketball, But Just the Feelings, Drinking, Drunk Sex, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Friends With Benefits, Gratuitous Use of Surnames, Kara Danvers is a Fuckboy, Lena Luthor is a Rich Bitch, Partying, Secret Relationship, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:54:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 246,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26179828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rouser/pseuds/Rouser
Summary: Kara has officially decided: Lena Luthor is her hot girl bummer.College AU where Kara and Lena can’t stand each other, but still end up sleeping together every weekend. It turns into friends with benefits. And then, someone catches feelings.. . . . . . .“Love can’t really be kept though,” Kara says. “It can only be given.”“To give something is to lose something,” Lena retorts.“No, it’s not,” Kara says, and Lena can practically feel her frowning. “It’s … to trust, to trust that you’ll get it back.”
Relationships: Alex Danvers/Maggie Sawyer, Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Some others - Relationship
Comments: 1150
Kudos: 4306





	1. hot girl bummer

**Author's Note:**

> Initially inspired by the vibe from "hot girl bummer" by blackbear

* * *

Kara doesn’t really know how it happens.

She does know she can’t fucking stand Lena Luthor. The face of that infuriating, prissy, rich girl haunts Kara’s thoughts constantly. _It’s only because she’s so annoying,_ Kara tells herself. _Who cares if she’s hot?_

Their feud is ancient, stemming back to their first year of college. Kara had accidentally spilled a drink on Lena in the dining hall, and the girl flipped out at her. Or was it because of some class debate in their first-year seminar? Or was it over a parking spot? Well, all of those things happened, but Kara really can’t remember the order anymore.

Once the feud between them was ignited, they didn’t really do anything but stoke the flames. Kara was the current superstar talent of the college’s basketball team, so classes — while she enjoyed them — were more of a suggestion for her than anything else. Basketball was her main focus. (Her cousin Clark is one of the best players currently in the game and she’s certainly bound for the pros too.)

In contrast — after multiple classes spent alongside Lena Luthor — Kara quickly learned that there was nothing more important than academics to the other girl. Lena’s serious, cold demeanor constantly rubbed her the wrong way. Kara had been unlucky enough to have a class every semester with her, much to their mutual aggravation. It was a wonder they even made it this far without any formal altercations. And even worse, they would run into each other all over campus; the library, the dining hall, the mail room, everywhere. Thankfully, the athletes had their own gym — Kara’s last sacred place left on campus. Lena Luthor’s almost daily appearance in her life brought annoyance and contempt with it every time, causing their history to blur together in one big pot of hostility.

It didn’t really matter though. One way or another, Kara and Lena had spent the past two years unable to stand each other, and their junior year was to be no different. At least this year they didn’t have any classes together. And Kara was living off campus now, so she shouldn’t see Lena around anymore.

That is the case for five glorious days, until _Lena_ starts going to _Kara’s bar_ , and all of a sudden Kara’s plan to avoid the shit out of Lena Luthor falls apart. (Well, it’s not Kara’s bar per se, but Al’s Dive Bar is the one good place near campus that will brush aside a fake ID, and they’re now both at it.)

“Uh oh, Kara, your favorite person just walked in,” Lucy informs her sarcastically, giving the bar entrance a look of intrigue. She nudges her elbow into Kara’s side, but Kara too has already locked onto the intruder. 

Kara can’t believe her eyes. There, standing in the entryway of Al’s with her entourage of pretentious assholes in tow, is Lena fucking Luthor. 

Kara has never been more grateful that she chose to wear her best outfit tonight — a red-and-blue striped silk shirt unbuttoned halfway, with a black racerback underneath, and black jeans held up by a gold-accented belt that matches her signature gold crest necklace. She looks hot, and she knows it. It’s important to look good when dealing with someone as annoying and perfect as Lena Luthor.

“Wonderful,” Alex sighs at Kara’s frown. She and Maggie were sitting across the booth with their backs to the door, but they both knew exactly who that tight-lipped frown was reserved for. 

All four of them — Kara, Alex, Maggie, and Lucy — played together on the college’s basketball team. As teammates, they played hard and they partied hard. Al’s Dive Bar had quickly bought their loyalty with it’s lax ID policy and they had gone every weekend religiously for over two years, to the point where the booth they currently occupied was left alone by other bar patrons. It was their own late-night utopia. Until tonight.

“Let it go,” Alex warns. Kara’s face morphs in her classic pout, but she relents to Alex’s better judgment.

“How about another round?” Maggie suggests, moving her head into Kara’s line of sight. “Little Danvers?” Lena disappears from view.

“Sounds good,” Kara half-asses a response, feeling annoyed already.

It’s fine for awhile. Kara enjoys the evening — chatting and joking around with her friends. James and Mike come late, having pregamed with their basketball team at some random apartment. Winn, their mutual friend (who daylights as the student sports announcer for the basketball games), is with them also. 

The night goes by quickly. Winn and Kara get into plenty of trouble poking fun at James, with Lucy egging them on excitedly. When James finally has enough, he steers Lucy to the dance floor as an alternative outlet for her energy. Winn and Mike leave next to meet up with Imra, Mike’s girlfriend, in the mutual pursuit of food. Last is Alex and Maggie; when they start making bedroom eyes at each other, Kara excuses herself to the bathroom.

Kara’s been to Al’s a thousand times. She could find her way to the bathroom even if blackout drunk with her eyes closed (which she had admittedly done more than once), so tonight’s walk over is completely mindless. Kara quickly does what she needs to do in the single-stall bathroom, ready to get back to the energizing thrum of the populated bar. She’s drunk but not that drunk; still able to focus on her reflection in the mirror over the sink, but her mind is already zoned-out wondering where tonight’s least favorite bar patron has ended up — only to get an abrupt answer as she leaves the bathroom.

“Danvers,” an all too familiar voice greets her curtly.

The music is blaring so loudly that Kara can feel it vibrate in her ribcage, but the voice still comes through clear as ice. Her body was all too warm already, and her new company does absolutely nothing to abate that. Kara’s drunk eyes refocus on the only other person standing in the dim bar hallway; Lena Luthor is there, drink in hand and an unimpressed expression on her face. She’s wearing tall heels that actually put her up right at Kara’s height, along with a short and tight green dress so breathtaking it should be criminal, but Kara would sooner exile herself from her favorite bar than admit that. 

“Luthor,” Kara replies. 

Lena’s eyes flit over Kara’s figure, and Kara can already see the cogs turning inside her head.

“You know, they make something to keep shirts closed,” Lena tells her, “They’re called buttons.”

“And deprive the world of this?” Kara gestures down at her body. She knew her shirt was unbuttoned far enough to allow a peek of her abs underneath. “That would practically be a crime.”

Lena rolls her eyes.

“You have a very high opinion of yourself,” Lena deadpans.

“I thought that was the one thing we had in common?” Kara goads, winking.

Lena’s face scrunches up in disdain and (for the briefest of seconds) drunk Kara wants to kiss that wrinkled nose. “Obviously not. I guess you didn’t get into college on academics.”

“I don’t really need to,” Kara says. “Perks of being a superstar athlete.”

Lena gulps as Kara steps into her personal space, the edge of Kara’s shirt brushing against the hand Lena’s has death-gripped around her drink. “But I’m glad you’re putting that big head to good use, Luthor.”

“At least I have a brain inside my big head, Danvers,” Lena snaps back.

“That’s not the only thing I have that’s big.”

Kara didn’t even feel the words assemble in her brain, yet there they were, already out of her mouth and on their way to wreck her life.

A minute passes before Lena responds and Kara feels ready to die sixty times over. She can see Lena sucking on her teeth in … annoyance?

“Is that right?” Lena finally says, and Kara can’t make out what tone laces her voice. Maybe she thinks Kara meant her ego? (She did not — the sound of sex in Kara’s voice was too heavy to ignore or misconstrue.)

“Yeah,” Kara says, again without thinking. “It’s a shame I can’t stand you or else you’d already know that.”

_Fuck._

Did she, Kara Danvers, just admit to Lena Luthor (of _all_ people) that she would sleep with her if given the chance?

_Fuck._

Kara needs to stop talking. Immediately. Her face flushes bright red with the honesty of her last admission. Kara utters a silent prayer that she’s drunk enough that the alcohol has already made her face red enough for her blush to be hidden.

“You are so arrogant,” Lena scoffs at Kara.

Desperate for more space between her and her worst compulsions, Kara steps back to lean against the wall, no longer intruding into Lena’s space. Not that it helps much. The air between them is so thick and hot, and Kara can’t remember the last time she breathed.

“I’d rather be arrogant than cold,” Kara says nonchalantly, sliding a hand into her pants pocket.

Something in her words ignites a fire in Lena’s eyes.

“I’m. Not. Cold,” Lena says, slow and defiant, but there’s a flicker of doubt in her voice that Kara almost misses.

“Sure,” Kara gives her a strong look of disbelief.

“You know what—” Lena starts.

“—what?” Kara cuts her off.

They stand there, only a few feet apart in the dim bar hallway, sweaty and flushed and glaring a hole into the other’s head. Frustration radiates off both of them, colliding together in a cosmic-level implosion. It must be at least a thousand degrees inside. Lena doesn’t move, but she looks ready to spit out another insult at any moment.

But it never comes.

It takes Kara a moment to process what is happening. But there is no misinterpreting it.

_Lena Luthor is kissing her._

Without a second thought, Kara pushes her lips back against Lena’s dark red ones. She places a strong hand — strengthened by years of basketball and lifting — on Lena’s hip and forces her back up against the wall. Kara’s other forearm rests on the wall to the side of Lena’s head, while Lena’s hands snake through her hair.

Kara can’t get enough of it — of _he_ _r_. She can’t tear herself away from Lena’s soft, warm lips. They continue to make out in the dark corner of the bar hallway, not stopping even as people walk close by to rotate in and out of the bathrooms.

Kara moves her lips down to Lena’s neck and she is rewarded with the most delicious moan. It becomes her new favorite game, listening and feeling how Lena squirms under her mouth and tongue.

“Want to get out of here?” Kara mumbles into Lena’s neck. It’s a decision made 100% by the throbbing in Kara’s tight pants — one she will look back on the next morning with disbelief.

“Yes …” Lena trails off, apparently lacking the fortitude to admit anything further.

Kara bites at the soft skin under her ear.

“Kara—” Lena gasps, setting a firm hand on the blonde’s shoulder.

“Hmm?”

She pushes Kara away slightly, and Kara brings her head up to determine the cause of the interruption.

“Let’s go. Where to?” Lena asks breathlessly.

Kara’s eyes quickly flit over to the bathroom doors, then back at Lena. Lena seems to read her mind. “Absolutely not. We’re not fucking in a dive bar bathroom.”

“My apartment is a few blocks away,” Kara offers, then quickly grimaces at the memory that Maggie’s apartment’s AC broke yesterday. “Wait, shit, no. Alex and her girlfriend will be there.”

Lena either already knows who Alex is or doesn’t care enough to ask. “Fine, my place.”

“Are we walking?” Kara asks. It’s not lost on her that Lena’s wearing heels.

“I already ordered a ride-share,” Lena responds. “They should be here soon.”

Kara nods, then frowns slightly. “We can’t go out the front door.” The implication in her voice is clear: _because my friends can’t see me leave with_ **_you_**. She knows Alex and Maggie are likely still sitting in their booth, and they would see Kara and Lena leave together — if Alex would even let Kara get that far without yanking her away and scolding her for hooking up with her long-time adversary.

Lena nods in agreement. Kara vaguely remembers Lena came with friends tonight too.

“There’s a side door out to the pavilion,” Kara says, “We can hop the fence.”

Lena raises a defiant eyebrow. Lena’s stunningly high heels pop back into Kara’s mind again.

“It’s like three feet tall,” Kara squints at her.

Lena huffs. “Fine.” It’s not like they really have another alternative.

The ride-share arrives before they can resume making out, and they get over the pavilion fence just fine. Except that Lena’s dress rides up very high on her thigh as she mounts the railing, and Kara’s grateful that her hands are currently occupied helping Lena over the fence, lest they wander elsewhere. Kara can’t get that image out of her head the rest of the drive, enraptured by how the skin of Lena’s thigh glowed enticingly under the streetlights, even as she’s aggressively making out with her in the backseat.

The driver coughs loudly to let them know the ride has concluded.

“Thanks,” Kara says, extending a few crumpled dollar bills over the driver’s shoulder.

“Have a nice night,” he says neutrally, accepting the tip.

Kara’s not sure if she should hold Lena’s hand or not, but the other woman is sort of wobbling in her heels so she does it anyways.

“How drunk are you?” Kara asks.

“Probably not drunk enough for this,” Lena replies. Kara’s fairly drunk but it’s immediately noticeable just how luxurious Lena’s apartment is. There’s a doorman, a large crystal chandelier, and a myriad of well-dressed employees trying too hard not to look over at the drunken pair.

They make out in the elevator and they make out in the hallway and they make out against Lena’s front door. Lena fumbles with her key in the lock until it finally clicks. Kara barely remembers to close and lock the door behind her, her hands way too full of a lovely distraction. 

“Bedroom?” Kara asks.

“Back and to the right,” Lena mutters her answer directly into Kara’s mouth.

Everything is dark but between the moonlight and the city lights pouring in through the windows there’s enough visibility to work with, so no one stubs a toe. Kara vaguely notes how large the apartment is and how expensive everything looks, but she doesn’t really care. There are more important things to do than inspect Lena’s apartment decor.

Lena’s bedroom is clean and spacious with a large bed centered along the back wall. The fact that Lena’s bed isn’t tucked into a corner like Kara’s is makes the blonde feel a bit like a hot mess. But considering she’s currently making out with her long-standing enemy, she lacks any defense to _not_ call herself a hot mess.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Kara asks gently as Lena quickly unbuttons her shirt. There’s not that many buttons left to undo, so Kara quickly finds herself shirtless. Lena’s only answer is to suck on Kara’s neck.

“Lena,” Kara repeats, dropping her hands to her sides passively. Lena seems to detect Kara won’t go any further until she speaks.

“Yes,” Lena says. “I want this.”

“Great. Let me know if you change your mind,” Kara smiles, capturing Lena’s lips in a deep kiss. Kara vaguely wonders how much of Lena’s dark lipstick is smeared across her face now.

What comes next is a whirlwind.

“We need to set some rules,” Lena says. Kara’s already got her out of her dress, tossing it back over her shoulder. It’s funny, without her heels on, Lena’s now a few inches shorter than Kara, who enjoys the newfound height difference.

“Okay,” Kara agrees, moving them both towards the bed. The back of Lena’s knees hit the mattress and they both fall back onto the bed. Lena wiggles up underneath Kara, who’s currently holding her weight off the other woman. Kara can only guess how hot her arms look while doing it (really hot).

One look at Lena’s bare chest sends Kara’s heart racing. Lena Luthor is _gorgeous_. 

“You can’t spend the ni-night,” Lena says. Kara sucks gently on her nipple, causing Lena’s voice to hitch.

“Okay,” Kara agrees, before going back to her task.

Thanks to an exceptional ability to multitask, Kara has Lena fully naked already.

“No one can know,” Lena states.

“Fine by me,” Kara agrees vehemently. Her friends would never let her live this down, and honestly, Kara’s not sure she’s going to let herself live it down either.

“Take your pants off,” Lena orders. A pleasurable chill runs down Kara’s spine, and she obeys without hesitation. One more layer from Kara and they’ll both be completely naked.

“These too,” Lena tugs on the waistband of Kara’s boyshorts. It’s gone in an instant. Kara silently pats herself on her back for how well her athleticism translates into the bedroom.

Kara kisses her neck for a bit before moving back up to Lena’s chest, kisses alternating between teasingly soft-and-light to firm-and-rough. At the same time, her hand works it’s way up Lena’s thigh until she finds what she’s looking for. Lena is so warm and wet and tight — for _Kara_ , of all people.

Kara slides one finger inside and then another, feeling Lena clench around her. She feels like slick velvet and Kara can’t resist as she works her fingers in deeper. The noises Lena makes and the nails scratching down Kara’s back tell her Lena quite likes the spots she’s hitting.

“Do you want to stay at two or do you want three?” Kara asks with a devilish smile.

“Two,” Lena says. Kara respects the answer without a second thought, changing her hand position so her fingers curl in towards Lena’s navel, hitting a particularly pleasurable spot inside. It doesn’t take long for Kara to get what she wants — a moaning Lena Luthor coming into her palm.

“Wow, already?” Kara teases.

“Shut up, Danvers,” Lena orders. Kara does just that, sinking her lips into the junction between Lena’s thighs. 

“Fuck,” Lena gasps. Kara smiles into the warm, wet lips. She knows she’s good at this (plenty of practice), and now Lena will know how good she is too.

Kara manages to draw two more orgasms out of Lena — one with her smartass mouth and another with her fingers. Kara comes along with Lena on her last orgasm, the blonde with a hand on Lena’s clit as well as her own. When it’s all said and done, Kara flops down on the bed next to Lena: a sweaty, breathless, satisfied mess.

Well, hate sex really is something.

“That was …” Lena trails off, breathless.

“Amazing? I know,” Kara substitutes. 

Lena doesn’t bother to correct her, which Kara counts as a victory. Kara would never admit it, but a part of her was surprised just how good the sex really was. They moved well against each other as their mutual hatred brought an invigorating heat of passion with it. And there was no denying it, Lena Luthor was the hottest person Kara had ever seen.

“You can’t … stay over,” Lena says while she recovers her breath.

“I don’t want to,” Kara spits, but the sex has drained the animosity from her voice. She gets up and starts looking for her pants. “Bathroom?”

“On your way out, on your left, by the kitchen,” Lena says.

“Thanks.”

“This isn’t happening again,” Lena states, but the tremble of doubt in her voice leaves Kara’s mind plenty to play with.

Kara laughs as she tosses her shirt back on over her shoulders. She doesn’t turn around but does raise a hand up in goodbye as she walks out of the bedroom. “See you next weekend, Luthor.” 

“Fuck you, Danvers!” Lena yells half-heartedly after her.

“Fuck you, too!”

* * *

They don’t even make it to next weekend. 

It’s now almost twenty-four hours later, and once again, Kara Danvers is in bed with Lena Luthor.

“I thought we weren’t hooking up again?” Kara gives her a cocky grin.

“This isn’t hooking up,” Lena says, “This is me making a poor decision twice.”

“A poor decision?” Kara feigns hurt. As if there was anything Lena Luthor could say that could actually hurt her, a woman of steel.

“A terrible decision, really,” Lena corrects herself. She looks ready to say something else, but Kara’s fingers are now inside her and Kara brushes against a spot that makes Lena gasp.

“Good?” Kara asks, concern etched into her face.

“Do that again,” Lena demands.

Kara obliges. She’s able to pull two orgasms out of Lena that night before she herself comes.

“Have you ever done this before?” Kara asks. She’s on her back now lying next to Lena, staring up at the tall ceiling.

“Sex?” Lena looks over at Kara like she’s the daftest person to walk the planet. “Yes.”

“No, I meant hook-ups,” Kara says, turning to meet Lena’s eyes. It’s in this moment — where Kara’s a little bit too sober — that she realizes: Lena Luthor has the most enchanting forest-green eyes. She has a few bright green flecks in by the pupil, and a dark ring around the edge of the iris that reminds Kara of the soothing teal color of the lake by her childhood home. The thought bothers Kara for some reason, so she turns her sights back to the ceiling.

Lena takes a minute to respond. “Not really,” she admits quietly, not meeting Kara’s eyes. “Not … outside a relationship.”

For a second, Lena looks so unsure and vulnerable that the steel wall around Kara’s heart falters for a second. “It’s okay if you haven’t,” Kara assures, “It’s not a big deal.”

“I know it’s not.” Lena's voice is icy and Kara doesn’t believe her.

“So Luthor, would you say you’ve been thoroughly satisfied?” Kara tries to lighten the mood.

“I can’t stand you,” Lena tells her in a very believable tone. Kara’s steel walls slide back up instantly.

“Well, you can stand me a little …” Kara points out, running a teasing hand up Lena’s inner thigh.

“Fuck you, Danvers,” Lena mumbles into Kara’s lips.

“Maybe later,” Kara winks. “If you’re nice.”

She leaves soon after that.

* * *

Lena feels like a pressurized bottle of carbon dioxide about to explode. Jack and Andrea had been driving her up a wall all night. This whole situation is their fault. Last weekend — the first weekend of the school year — they had finally hounded Lena into going out to a bar. Jack had even gone so far as to procure a fake ID for her. Lena begrudgingly agreed, even though she would have much rather spent the evening in her home office, pouring over her latest side project.

. . . . . . .

_“Lena, you’ve been in National City for college for two whole years, and you’re never once stepped foot in a bar,” Jack complained, lounging across the foot of Lena’s bed._

_“Really, though,” Andrea agreed, tossing a few dresses out of Lena’s closet onto the bed. “It’s a shame.”_

_“I prefer to spend my time being more productive,” Lena defended herself._

_“Please,” Jack rolled his eyes. “You could use a break. You’re so wound up all the time.”_

_“I am not!” Lena objected, and Jack gestured out in front of him like she had just settled the argument for him._

_“When’s the last time you got laid?” Andrea yelled from the closet._

_Lena flushed bright red. “Um--”_

_“No!” Jack slapped the bed dramatically. “Not since Sam? That’s it. We’re going out. It’s an intervention. You need to get laid. No objections.”_

_Lena opened her mouth to argue, but Andrea appeared out of nowhere and shoved a black dress into her hands. “Try it on,” Andrea ordered. “Now.”_

_Lena sighed, knowing it was no use. She couldn't defend against their united front. “Fine,” she exhaled in annoyance._

_“Green dress next, please,” Andrea said, plopping down next to Jack._

. . . . . . .

And that very ‘intervention’ was what led her to end her first weekend of the semester in bed (twice) with her long-standing rival: Kara Danvers. Kara Danvers and the incredible, mind-blowing, amazing sex.

Lena doesn’t want to admit it, but it was by far the best sex she had ever had. No offense to her brief high-school trysts, Jack, or Sam — but none of them could hold a flame to Kara fucking Danvers. She’s indescribably good in bed. Lena wants to roll her eyes at the very admission, but here she is, once again in the seedy dive bar that she now knows Kara frequents on the regular.

Lena’s dressed to the nines in a tight red cocktail dress and heels (not having learned her lesson last time, despite her feet protesting) and she knows she looks hot as hell. Now she just needs Kara to fall into her trap. A trap set simply because she’d like another orgasm, that’s all there is to it. Kara just happens to be able to supply it.

As was to be expected, Kara’s friends and teammates were already there. They are just as loud and obnoxious and boisterous as last time. It’s impossible to find a corner of the bar where Lena can’t hear them laughing or yelling.

“Quite a rowdy group, aren’t they,” Jack muses over his beer, glaring at Kara and her friends. “Hot, though.”

Lena swallows roughly. Jack and Andrea still don’t know who it was exactly that left those hickeys on Lena's neck. Thankfully, they were both just excited she actually got laid that they willingly let her suitor’s identity stay a mystery. 

Kara aside, Lena can’t help but have a kindred agreement with Jack. “You’d think they would have something better to do than … toss quarters at a glass …?” She can’t believe she’s actually going to try and get Kara Danvers — who currently has beer running down her chin — into her bed, _for the third time_.

Her little red dress does the trick perfectly. At some point, Lena goes to grab another drink from the bar, and all of a sudden Kara’s body is pressed shoulder-to-shoulder with her own. Kara’s in a similar outfit as last time, except her shirt is now a tight sleeveless turtleneck that makes Lena want to throw herself at those strong, muscular arms.

“Danvers,” Lena greets, her voice thick and enticing. Let it be known; she may be a huge nerd underneath, but Lena Luthor knows how to play the coy flirt.

“Luthor,” Kara says, turning her chest in towards Lena but keeping her head straight ahead.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Lena says.

“Is it?” Kara asks skeptically. “This is my usual spot; we’ve been coming here for years. You on the other hand …”

“I enjoy the atmosphere,” Lena states, like it’s a simple, common fact.

“Oh sure, the _atmosphere_ ,” Kara says sarcastically. “Anything else here you enjoy?”

“Certainly not a particular group of rowdy patrons,” Lena spits.

“At least we know how to have fun,” Kara defends.

“I’m sure you’ll have plenty of _fun_ tonight then,” Lena says, as she pushes her ass against Kara’s thigh. Her dress is incredibly tight and Lena knows Kara will enjoy the feeling of nothing but that thin layer of fabric separating them.

“I, uh—” Kara stammers. “Yep.” Lena can practically hear Kara’s whole body go stiff.

“Well spoken,” Lena tone is beyond amused. Kara is so predictable. But Lena is glad for it; she likes how easily she can read Kara. If she couldn’t, her inner need for control likely would have ended whatever this was immediately.

“You look really nice tonight,” Kara says, eyes flitting over Lena’s form. The genuine appreciation in her tone makes Lena’s gut twist a little, but she quickly shoves the feeling aside.

“Well, if you decide you need to seek out some better _entertainment_ tonight, I’m sure you can figure something out,” Lena states. It’s a clear preposition, but not so obvious that she would be throwing herself at Kara’s feet.

Kara gulps hard. “Let me know when you want to leave,” she says, voice deepened by lust. Or was it desperation? _It’s really that easy_ , Lena tells herself, mentally patting herself on the back.

A short ride-share takes them back to Lena’s apartment. Lena never has anyone besides Jack and Andrea over (and that’s rare), let alone a hookup, but she would much rather contend with Kara in her apartment for a few hours than have to deal with Kara’s roommates or even fuck in a bathroom. A part of her is annoyed over having Kara intruding into her personal space once more, but that seems to be the price to pay to get Kara to, well, _intrude_ into her _space_.

“You look gorgeous in red,” Kara says, her eyes raking over Lena’s naked form before they shut again. Kara captures Lena’s lips in a kiss, her tongue running across Lena’s bottom lip.

“I hate your friends,” Lena gasps into Kara’s mouth. She doesn’t know why she says it. She’s still annoyed at how loud and obnoxious they were at the bar earlier, that must be it. Kara’s only spared her ire because she has something Lena wants.

“Yeah, they hate you too,” Kara says nonchalantly into Lena’s neck. The words ricochet off Lena's impenetrable Luthor armor. Why would she care what Kara’s annoying, rowdy friends think of her? They would hardly be the first people to think of her with disdain. Lena has learned to tune it out years ago. A survival technique.

Kara’s already inside of her and Lena can’t help but marvel at how immediately her body responds to Kara. She tells herself it’s just because they can’t stand each other and emotions are already high; it’s easy for the brain to attribute her horniness and her annoyance to the same source. And maybe it’s also a bit due to the fact Kara Danvers is the hottest person Lena’s ever seen — with her juicy, thick biceps, chiseled abs, and soft, blonde hair that Lena wants to run her fingers though all night. And as Kara brings her to the edge, she does just that.

“I’m going to have the worst sex hair when I leave,” Kara chuckles.

“Surely a small price to pay,” Lena says.

“I’ll survive,” Kara says. She smiles at Lena. Kara’s smile is always so warm and welcoming, even when it’s followed by some teasing comment. Lena wonders how; is she really that happy and genuine all the time?

Lena doesn’t even have to remind Kara of the rules of their arrangement this time — the other woman is already on her feet searching for her clothes. The bed is noticeably cooler without Kara in it; she’s almost some sort of human furnace.

“If we’re going to end up doing this every weekend, you might as well give me your phone number,” Kara says, tossing her phone onto Lena’s bed while she pulls her pants back on. Lena sits up from the sheets to grab it, her top half exposed to Kara’s delighted gaze.

“Seriously?” Lena gives her an annoyed look.

“It makes more sense,” Kara argues, “If we’re not in the same place and you want to hookup, then you can reach me.”

“And what makes you think I’d want to hookup with you again?” Lena raises an eyebrow. Kara’s got an excellent point, but Lena doesn’t want to concede that easily.

Kara squints her eyes and gives her a confident smile as she raises her hand up in a taunting gesture. “The impressive amount of cum on my hand?”

Lena rolls her eyes but relents. “Fine.” No one has made her come like Kara, and it’s a solid argument in Kara’s favor. She quickly taps Kara’s phone screen in a calculated series.

“Don’t save it as my name, that’s hardly subtle,” Lena tells her, handing the device back.

Kara frowns, staring intensely at Lena’s unsaved number in her phone. “What do you want me to save it as then?”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something,” Lena quips. “Now, go … please.”

(It’s not until Kara’s sitting in the passenger seat of the ride-share Lena ordered for her, the radio playing some catchy hookup song, that she finally thinks of what to save Lena’s number as. The memory of Lena’s annoyed expression and fantastic ass in tonight’s blood red dress echoes around Kara’s mind. It really was a shame they couldn’t stand each other; Lena Luthor was so fucking hot. What a bummer.)

A _hot girl bummer._

* * *

It’s another fun weekend spent at Al’s. They’re a few weeks into the semester and there’s a hint of chill in the air. But Kara -- not one to mess with success -- has opted for a pair of tight jeans and yet another silk button-up, more or less actually buttoned-up. Her and her friends have already been at Al’s for a while, but the night is still young and Kara’s cup is still very much full.

Suddenly, Kara’s phone vibrates violently in her back pocket. She whips it out immediately. Considering all her friends are right beside her, there’s only one other person who would be messaging her this late at night.

**_hot girl bummer:_ ** _Come over tonight._

It’s not worded like a question but Kara knows it is one, so she goes to type a confirmation only for her phone to be yanked out of her hands. 

“Hey!” She whips over to see Lucy standing by the side, gawking at her with her phone.

“Who’s ‘hot girl bummer’ Kara?” Lucy teases. “And why does she want you to come over tonight?”

“Give it back,” Kara pouts. She quickly reaches for the phone, only for Lucy to hand it off to Maggie, who is way out of Kara’s arm span.

Kara’s face pales as she realizes who’s standing right behind Lucy and Maggie, ordering a drink at the bar. That silky, raven hair is unique to only one woman. Lena Luthor, her hot girl bummer.

“Ooh,” Maggie teases, “Little Danvers, do you have a fuck buddy?”

Kara can feel the red heat spreading up her neck and across her cheeks. There’s no way Lena hasn’t overheard the conversation, with her friends’ alcohol-induced shouting doing Kara little favors.

“It’s just a casual thing,” Kara mumbles an excuse.

Alex rescues the phone and hands it back to Kara. “Be careful, Kara,” Alex warns. Behind her, Lena’s head turns almost imperceptibly to the side, but it’s enough for Kara to notice. Fuck, Lena _did_ hear everything.

“It’s fine, Alex,” Kara whines, “It’s just a hookup.”

“Clearly, if this mystery girl doesn’t even get a name,” Lucy says. 

Kara gives her a dirty look. “Just because you’re my best friend doesn’t mean I won’t …” Kara trails off, realizing no threat she could make would possibly faze Lucy. Maggie and Lucy are currently looking amusedly at her, almost in a conspiratory way. They both look way too intrigued about this new development in her personal life.

“It’s not like you to keep your hookups a secret, Little Danvers,” Maggie squints at her.

“Who is this girl; why doesn’t she get a real name?” Lucy wonders smugly.

“If we can guess who it is, will you tell us?” Maggie asks.

“No.” Kara's steely tone ends the conversation there.

Despite the fact her friends spend the rest of the night looking at her like she’s the most interesting thing around, Kara has a great night. It’s by-and-all a typical fun night out in National City. And by two in the morning, she’s successfully made her way into Lena Luthor’s bed without trouble.

“You saved my number as _‘hot girl bummer_ ’?” Lena raises an eyebrow, and there’s an incredulous hint to her voice. Kara can’t tell if she’s about to laugh or rip Kara’s throat out. The latter would be quite the disappointment, considering Lena clearly prepared for Kara’s visit — she’s wearing a racy black lace set that makes Kara’s blood burn.

“I needed something vague,” Kara quickly explains, yanking her own shirt off. Her pants are already off somewhere. “My friends would’ve figured it out if I put something simple like ‘L’ or ‘LL’.”

“Fine,” Lena sighs in exasperation. “Now do what you came to do.”

Kara breaks out into a smile of relief and quickly flips them over. She goes right for the spot behind Lena’s ear that drives her wild.

“What do you want tonight?” Kara asks.

Lena gasps underneath her. “Nightstand, bottom drawer.”

Kara leans over to pull it open. It takes her a minute, since all the furniture in Lena’s apartment is expensive and minimalist and apparently that means the handles can’t be in obvious places. But once Kara’s got the drawer open, she can make out the figures of a small bottle and a not-so-small strap-on.

Well, this night just got a little extra exciting.

Kara spends the next hour fucking Lena into her mattress — once missionary, to adjust to the strap, and once on all fours. She feels like she could go all night, the countless glute bridges in her workouts pairing well with her stamina. There’s something about having Lena’s face pressed down into the mattress and her ass waiting in the air that drives Kara absolutely feral.

Five orgasms later — three for Lena and two for Kara — and they’re both lying facing each other under the sheets. They stay there for a bit longer than the time it takes to catch their breath.

“I have to ask,” Lena says coyly, tracing a circle over her own thigh. “Why ‘hot girl bummer’?”

Kara exhales to give herself a moment to collect her thoughts. “Well, you’re really hot,” she supplies, “And I don’t know, we couldn’t stand each other and I just kind of thought it was a bummer.”

Kara bites her lip upon realizing her use of the past tense, but to her relief, Lena doesn’t correct her.

“A bummer indeed,” Lena agrees. “I find our current arrangement much more … suitable.” Lena stretches her legs out under the covers and Kara can feel the impossibly soft skin brush against her own.

Kara turns back to smile at Lena. “I like it too.” It’s such a soft and tender moment in time. Kara’s stomach flips and she doesn’t know why but it feels like the air just vanished from the room.

Lena hums appreciatively. She shifts up onto her forearm, and Kara thinks she’s about to lean in for another kiss, but her lips never come.

“You should go,” Lena says softly, “It’s getting late.”

Kara forces herself to inhale deeply. “Yeah, you’re right.” She finds her clothes quickly, putting them back on without her usual haste. For the first time, it’s a bit hard to leave. 

“Goodnight, Lena,” Kara says a little too tenderly, and exits before she can hear Lena’s response.

* * *


	2. rules

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rules are made to be broken.

* * *

Kara Danvers has a certain well-known _reputation_ around campus, and the sex drive to match. Being the superstar talent of the basketball team — with a smile that could make ice melt — means she has many options for her affections, usually. But after a few hookups with none other than Lena Luthor, she finds that her desire now has one singular focus. After a particularly vibrant sex dream involving the woman in question, Kara wakes to find herself covered in sweat and undeniably horny. It’s only 1:00 AM on a Monday night, so against what should be her better judgment, Kara pulls out her phone and shoots Lena a text:

_you up?_

There’s no response for a few minutes, so Kara lays back down, phone still in hand. Suddenly, it vibrates and Kara jumps upright to read the response.

 **hot girl bummer:** _Yes. What do you want?_

_want to come over?_

**hot girl bummer:** _No, that would be against the rules._

_remind me again what the rules are? I lost track_

(Kara’s never had such a meticulously planned hookup arrangement before, but considering how those other ones ended … she’s content to try it this way.) Lena’s reply comes a few minutes later.

**hot girl bummer:**

_1\. No spending the night_

_2\. No one can know_

_3\. No sober hookups_

_4\. No weeknight hookups_

_5\. Absolutely no feelings_

Kara sighs as she begins to type a response. Looks like she would be on her own for the next few days.

_5\. won’t be an issue_

_3\. is fine but no hookups if either of us is too drunk to consent_

_4\. lame and you should reconsider_

**hot girl bummer:** Good, agreed, and no.

_I do some of my best work on weeknights_ _…_

**hot girl bummer:** Not happening.

It happens only a few days later.

. . . . . . . .

_“What are you doing?” A loud male voice rung out from the entryway of Lena’s apartment._

_“Studying,” Lena deadpanned, not dignifying the interruption with so much as a glance. “You know Jack, I really regret giving you my spare key.”_

_Jack made a beeline right for her desk, already knowing where to find her. He’s done this way too many times already._

_“No, you don’t,” Jack said. “Who else would force you to have fun?”_

_“I don’t need to have fun, Jack,” Lena said. She pushed his hand off her book and flipped to the next page. “I need to finish this assignment.”_

_Jack scoffed, peering over her shoulder. “What is this for? Wait, Lena -- this is our robotics homework! This isn’t due until next week.”_

_“I’m doing it now,” Lena stated._

_“No, you’re not,” Jack quickly yanked the book out from under her, holding it high above his head._

_Lena glared at him. “Jack, give it back. Now.”_

_Jack just smiled down smugly at her._

_“Thirsty Thursday,” Jack said, leaning in towards her. “We’re going. Now.”_

_Lena leaned back in her chair. “No.”_

_“Yes,” Jack said._

_“No.”_

_“What will it take to get you to say yes?”_

_Lena sucked on her lip, deep in thought. “Where are we going for happy hour?”_

_“It’s not ‘happy hour’, Lena, five o’clock is long gone -- it’s Thirsty Thursday! And we’re going to Al’s,” Jack grinned like a cat bringing home a kill._

_Lena just sighed, letting the air carry out whatever butterflies might’ve just stirred in her stomach. “Why are we going to that forsaken place?”_

_“You like Al’s!” Jack complained, “We go there every Friday.”_

_“I tolerate it.” Lena crossed her arms over her chest._

_“Will is working tonight,” Jack confessed. “Please, Lena, for me?” He was practically begging her, his dark brown puppy-dog eyes at maximum strength._

_Lena arched an eyebrow. “Oh, I see now. And who is Will?”_

_Jack gave her a sheepish look. “Will is the bartender at Al’s. Andrea introduced me to him, apparently they were ‘mates in primary’ back in London, whatever that means.”_

_“Fine,” Lena relented, smiling softly at him. “But only because you seem genuinely smitten. And you’re not allowed to pester me about my … late night endeavors for the rest of the year.”_

_“The rest of the week,” Jack negotiated._

_“Six months.”_

_“Two weeks.”_

_“One month.”_

_“Deal. Thank you!” Jack’s thick arms wrapped around her in a bear hug._

. . . . . . . .

Al’s isn’t packed to the brim like Lena knew it would be on the following day, but there’s still a substantial crowd for a Thursday night. While Jack busies himself flirting with the bartender — _William_ , Lena remembers — she searches the crowd for a particular face. A few hours go by without luck and Lena feels like a fool for even trying. Then sure enough, a set of sky blue eyes find her from across the room.

There she is.

The rest of the night is almost painfully predictable, Lena’s rules be damned.

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” Lena says, grabbing her drink and wandering off to the dark corner now occupied by one flannel-wearing pain in Lena’s ass.

“Danvers,” Lena greets. What would have once been said with enmity is now spoken with benign familiarity.

“Luthor,” Kara says, giving her a dry smile over the rim of her beer.

Kara’s mild hostility doesn’t deter Lena, as she contributes it to the presence of three of Kara’s friends loudly throwing darts nearby.

“Seeing how my date is currently … indisposed, any chance you’d like to join me for a drink?” Lena gives her a suggestive look. Fuck it. She’s sort of drunk and could use the stress relief after a long week.

“Look, I have no interest being your side piece,” Kara’s sharp tone catches Lena by surprise.

“Side piece?”

“I heard you had a man,” Kara bites. So the hostility wasn’t just for show.

Lena arches an eyebrow so high it threatens to disappear into her hairline.

“The guy who’s always with you,” Kara elaborates. Kara’s eyes dart over to where Jack is sitting at the bar, roaring with laughter while William smiles at him, mixing a drink.

Lena laughs in her face. “That’s Jack and he’s harmless. We’re just friends.”

“I thought you guys used to date,” Kara says, eying Lena skeptically. “People don’t really stay friends with their exes, in my experience.”

“Yes, until I realized I didn’t like men,” Lena states. “Things between Jack and I are strictly platonic.”

“Oh.” Kara has the decency to look a bit bashful. “Then does your offer still stand?”

“It does.”

“I’m down then,” she says. “But we’re doing shots!” Kara already looks thrilled by the idea.

“Will your friends notice your absence?” Lena asks. She eyes the three familiar people — one woman and two guys — loudly laughing over by the dartboards.

“They won’t care,” Kara dismisses. “James and Lucy are about ready to jump each other’s bones, and Mike’s already trashed. He doesn’t have class on Fridays.”

“And they won’t think it odd, to see us taking shots together?”

“Nah,” Kara shrugs, “I’m kind of known for taking shots with just about anyone.”

“Well then,” Lena says, “Shall we?”

“I hope you like tequila!” Kara smiles so brightly Lena almost doesn’t process the end of her sentence. It takes a minute, but her blood runs cold. _Of course_ Kara likes tequila — the bane of Lena’s existence. Her stomach twists and protests at the very suggestion.

Lena flat out refuses the tequila, instead opting for a good scotch. Kara looks slightly disappointed, but takes it in stride. 

“You still have to take it as a shot,” Kara says.

“Danvers, no one uses a good scotch for a—”

“—I don’t care, you have to have the fun of taking the shot!”

“Fine,” Lena relents, signaling the bartender (not William, but an older, bald man) to go ahead with the pour.

“Thanks, Al,” Kara smiles, taking a hold of the two shots before handing Lena hers.

“Anything for you, kid,” the man says before walking away to another customer. Lena notes the familiarity and the nickname but says nothing. It’s an interesting tidbit for later.

They quickly clink glasses and toss them back. The scotch burns Lena’s throat in a delicious way. Kara coughs a bit after hers, her face turning red.

“Wooh!” Kara exclaims.

Lena just blinks rapidly and shakes her head. “Oh,” she says hoarsely.

“Ready for another?” Kara asks, a playful smile back on her face already.

And that’s how Lena ends up going home with Kara Danvers on a fucking _Thursday_ night.

This time, it’s quick and desperate. The sudden stretch of Kara’s fingers inside her burns delightfully. Lena can’t help but wonder what would’ve been in store for her if she had let Kara come over on Monday. It would seem leaving the blonde and her pent-up energy alone for a few days did Lena a whole realm of good. And once Kara’s head is buried between her thighs, Lena forgets any reservations she had about them hooking up on as familiar of a day as a weeknight. Her clarity returns sometime after her second orgasm.

“Well, this hits different on a Thursday night,” Kara sighs, rolling onto her naked side to give Lena a smug grin. “I could get used to this.”

“Don’t,” Lena deadpans, fixing the blonde with a look that would scare off most mere mortals. “I’m never letting Jack drag me out drinking on a weeknight again. I can’t believe I broke one of my rules. This was a mistake.”

“You can’t call every time we sleep together a mistake, Luthor,” Kara brushes off. “Especially if you keep doing it.”

“Don’t remind me,” Lena says. Kara rises up into a sitting position, and gives Lena a curious look that’s a bit too soft for Lena’s liking. 

“Lena, do you still like doing this? If you don’t, we can stop. We can go back to …” Kara trails off. 

Lena’s mind fills in the blank automatically. _Go back to hating each other_. That wouldn’t work though, they’ve been intimate too many times for the sharp comments and dirty looks to have the same indifferent bite. Lena half-wonders if Kara is even capable of giving her a dirty look anymore; recently it’s been all cocky smiles and gentle blue eyes from the woman. So then what would they ‘go back’ to? Avoiding each other? Pretending like the other doesn’t exist? 

Lena doesn’t know exactly why, but the idea makes her stomach ache. Kara looks a bit unsettled too, patiently waiting for Lena’s response.

In a rare moment of vulnerability, Lena reaches out to place a soothing hand over Kara’s. “No, I enjoy this.”

“You have soft hands,” Kara notes, looking delicately into Lena’s eyes.

“Thanks,” Lena smiles, caught a bit off guard. It’s a genuine smile, and it makes her cheeks ache in a way that reminds her how long it’s been since she’s actually smiled like this. It’s only been a second, but the smile starts to feel foreign so Lena lets it fall.

“So, it’s getting late …” she reminds Kara.

“Of course,” Kara says softly, running a hand through her own hair. “I should head out. Goodnight, Lena.” She graciously retracts from the bed and grabs her discarded clothes. Kara makes it a few steps out of Lena’s bedroom before she peeks her head back in.

Lena, already buried in the notebook by her bedside, sees the movement out of the corner of her eye.

She looks up expectantly. “Yes?”

“I know we broke one of your rules,” Kara says. “But … it was fun. I don’t regret it.”

“I don’t regret it either,” Lena echoes, surprising even herself with her honesty.

Kara smiles softly. “I’m glad.” Her fingers tap the doorframe once in goodbye, and she’s gone.

Once Lena hears the metallic click of the front door shutting, she buries her face in her hands.

 _I don’t regret it either,_ she thinks.

What is this turning into?

* * *

They’re now in the throes of autumn and Lena Luthor has slept with Kara Danvers far too many times now to label it a simple lapse in judgment.

Lena’s not sure when she became able to stand Kara Danvers, but if she had to guess, it was probably somewhere around the fifteenth orgasm. 

They fall into a pattern, a ritual of mutual indulgence. Lena shows up to Al’s Dive Bar every Friday, Jack and Andrea in tow, looking hot as hell. She drives Kara wild from a distance all night long, pretending not to acknowledge her or her annoying group of friends. Without fail, Kara always gets wound up enough by one o’clock to send Lena a text:

_**K:** your place or mine? _

Not at all eager to risk a run-in with Kara’s roommate (Alex? That sounds right.), she always requests her own place. Lena finds some excuse to call a car and Kara somehow sneaks away to jump in it at the last minute. (Jack and Andrea don’t seem to ever mind getting abandoned; Lena has a feeling it has something to do with the bartender, William, and whatever Andrea’s flavor of the night is.)

Then on Saturday, Lena stays in to enjoy the solace of her apartment, and when she’s ready for her metaphorical ‘dick appointment’, she cracks open a bottle of wine then sends a text and a ride-share to whatever late-night diner Kara has ended up at. (Kara’s friends always give her so much shit for the mysterious booty-call cars, but Lena doesn’t need to know that.)

Both nights end in the usual, mind-blowing sex Lena has grown accustomed to. There’s always alcohol involved; they’re always somewhere between tipsy and drunk. They both agree it’s better that they’re drinking. They can actually stand each other that way — the digs and the roasts and the cocky comments just roll off the other’s skin in pursuit of a common goal.

(Lena always declines Kara’s late night texts offering to come over on the occasional weeknight, though. She’s conceded enough already.)

Lena doesn’t think she could stomach a sober hookup. Then she would have no excuse to avoid Kara’s beautiful blue eyes or dodge Kara’s attempts at casual conversation. She might have to actually learn something about Kara, and god-forbid, she might have to tell Kara something about herself. And that’s way too close to friendly acquaintances for Lena’s taste. She much prefers recent-enemies-turned-tolerable-for-the-sake-of-sex. That she can handle.

It works for them. Or did.

But suddenly now basketball has started and it’s really cramping Lena’s sex schedule.

She finds herself at Al’s just like any other Friday night, except Kara and gang aren’t anywhere to be seen. At all. Not a single one. Simply confused — definitely not a bit worried — she sends a text to Kara:

_Come over at 1:30._

_**K:** can’t, i’m sober _

_Then drink something?_

_**K:** can’t do that either _

Lena wants to grind her teeth together. It’s already hard enough to ask the other woman to come over — Lena Luthor rarely asks anyone for anything, let alone to get fucked into her mattress. Why is Kara being so difficult? 

_Why not?_

_**K:** preseason has started, I have a three-a-day tomorrow. not allowed to drink either _

_Three-a-day?_

_**K:** three practices a day. One at 6am, one at 2pm, and one at 7pm _

_Well, that sounds miserable._

_**K:** it is _

Lena stares at her phone screen for a second, debating her next move. The conversation has reached a natural breaking point, and she could very easily leave it where it is. In fact, she very easily could avoid texting Kara ever again. But the throbbing in her clit is like an itch she just can’t scratch, and she’ll do anything to see the job done.

_When can you go out partying again?_

_**K:** next saturday _

_Let me know where to send the car to._

Lena exhales nervously. Was that too presumptuous? Was that too needy? Lena Luthor has been called many things, but _needy_ is not one of them. Luckily Kara’s response comes in before her mind can spiral any farther.

_**K:** will do ;) goodnight _

* * *

“Can we switch positions?” Kara asks. Lena can feel a few subtle tremors in Kara’s arms.

“What’s wrong, Danvers?” Lena teases. “Not up to the task?”

“No, my arms are just shot from our scrimmage today. Coach J’onn had us do push-ups after for every missed free throw,” Kara says honestly, and Lena feels a bit guilty. (She doesn’t know and couldn’t care less what a ‘free throw’ is, though.) Usually when they hookup, Kara is always on top — extending most of the physical energy required for whatever position she’s put Lena in. She supposes it’s time to return the favor.

“Of course,” Lena says with faux confidence. “Get onto your back.”

She quickly shifts to throw a leg over Kara’s waist, straddling her bed partner. In truth, she’s never done this before. Never been comfortable enough to be exposed like this, to be on top. _But there’s no time like the present_ , she reminds herself. Kara always seems to regard her naked body with a certain sense of exaltation anyways. It feels safe, comfortable almost.

“I think you missed me, Luthor,” Kara grins as she slides two damp fingers back into Lena. “You’re wetter than usual.”

“Shut up,” Lena kisses Kara. “You’re not here for your commentary.”

“And what am I here for?” A third finger slides in, spreading Lena deliciously.

Lena arches a sharp brow. “If you need to ask, perhaps we should stop. I would hate for you to get confused about the _only reason_ you’re welcome in my bed.”

“Well … I could use a demonstration,” Kara smiles slyly. “To help clear things up?”

Lena rolls her eyes. She doesn’t want to reward such behavior, and yet for some reason she does. Confidence looks hot on Kara. So she ends up bouncing up and down over the blonde’s pelvis, quite content to watch as Kara’s pupils get blown wide at the sight.

“Fuck, Lena,” Kara gasps.

“Now you seem to understand, Danvers,” Lena smiles coyly.

The night is just as satisfying as any other. Lena has come to expect no less from Kara Danvers, and basketball can fuck off.

* * *

Two weekends later, Al’s does a one-dollar special on a particular brand of cheap beer and the after-effect makes Lena wrinkle her nose in disgust.

“I see you took full advantage of Al’s special tonight,” Lena states, frowning, “Or rather, taste.”

“I did!” Kara gives her a proud grin. “I only spent five dollars tonight.”

“I’m surprised you can even stomach such a poor tasting beer,” Lena acts appalled.

“Scotch is gross, and not all of us can go around dropping fifty bucks on a bottle of wine,” Kara protests. Lena bites her tongue, realizing that it will do her little good to share that there’s not a single bottle of wine in her apartment currently worth under five hundred dollars. Bless Lex and his tendency to default to giving wine as his gifts.

An idea pops into Lena’s head. “Well, would you like to?”

Kara looks confused. “Like to what?”

“Have a bottle of wine,” Lena offers. “We can crack open one of the fancy ones.”

Kara contemplates it for a second. “Sure! I’m not that drunk anyways.”

“Well, this will get you there,” Lena winks. Kara’s already stripped her out of her dress, so she tosses on Kara’s discarded pullover to walk out to the kitchen for the wine. There’s just the slightest sound of a whimper as she leaves, but Lena ignores it. It was likely just her bed squeaking as Kara moved around on it. (Note, her bed didn’t squeak at all before she let Kara Danvers into it.)

Lena makes quick work of the task; she grabs two wine glasses first, then the wine bottle, and pours the red vintage into each glass. She returns to the bedroom with a glass in each hand, extending one to Kara. The other girl is currently leaning topless up against her headboard, one arm thrown over a propped-up knee, completely at ease in her half-naked state. Lena swallows roughly as her eyes rake over Kara’s form — from her strong legs, to her perky chest, down her muscular arms. Lena bites her bottom lip.

“Here,” she extends a glass outward.

Kara takes the wine glass out of Lena’s hand with little ceremony, cupping her hand around the bulb.

Lena stifles a chuckle. “Grab it from the stem,” Lena corrects, “That way your hand won’t warm the wine.”

“Oh,” Kara says, shifting her grip accordingly. “What is this?” She eyes the red liquid curiously.

“A 2015 Cabernet Sauvignon from the best province in France,” Lena says. “You should get some notes of blackberry and currants.”

Kara takes a sip. Her lips curls inward and the tip of her nose twitches. “Mmm,” Kara hums a little too enthusiastically. “What are currants?”

“A particular type of dried grape.” Lena watches her carefully, amused, as she goes to take another sip.

Kara apparently can’t dull her true response after another taste, and the blonde’s face puckers like she just ate a handful of sour candy. “Tastes like … olive juice.”

Lena can’t hold back her laughter this time. The sound is strange to hear. It’s been so long since she’s let out a genuine laugh. It makes her cheeks burn in the best way possible.

“Try it again. Swirl it first, like this—” Lena shifts her wrist to demonstrate. “—It’ll aerate the wine.”

Kara does so. “Aerate?”

“Introduces more oxygen to the wine, and the oxygen helps break down the tannins in the wine so the flavor is less harsh,” Lena explains.

“Oh, so it oxidizes?” Kara asks nonchalantly, and Lena does a double take.

“Yeah,” her brows furrow. “I didn’t know you even knew that word, Danvers.”

“Actually, math and science come pretty easy to me,” Kara says. “I’m actually minoring in mathematics. And I get _plenty_ of bio helping Alex study.”

Lena’s still staring at her in disbelief. “But, I thought …”

“That I was some dumb jock?” Kara smiles softly. “I get that a lot.”

“I … shouldn’t have assumed,” Lena says, setting a hand on Kara’s forearm. “I’m sorry, truly.”

“Thanks,” Kara says, leaning in to give Lena a kiss. It’s soft and unexpected and it makes Lena’s heart rate spike in a way she doesn’t like.

Not one to show how flustered a single kiss made her, Lena quips, “Trying to wine-and-dine me, Danvers?”

“Well …” Kara gives her a teasing smile, “That _is_ what I’m here for, right?” She sets her wine glass down on the nightstand.

“I do believe so,” Lena says, allowing her lips to mirror Kara’s smile.

“Well, I’ve had my wine …” Kara drawls, “Now it’s time to dine …” She gives Lena’s crotch a devious look.

“You did _not_ just use that line on me,” Lena scoffs, playfully shoving Kara onto her back.

Kara just holds her hands up in mock defense as Lena sets down her own wine and begins to strip the blonde of her pants. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Lena goes to protest, but Kara’s lips are already on hers, and suddenly her complaints are long forgotten. The next hour or so passes in a blur. Kara tastes like the wine and smells like sex. They only have one orgasm a piece, but it takes a while to reach and the buildup is incredibly satisfying. Afterwards they collapse together, with Lena’s head resting on Kara’s shoulder.

“So, if you like science — why only the minor in STEM?” Lena asks. “Why not a major?”

“Well, my number one goal is to go pro for basketball,” Kara explains, “And the labs from the STEM courses interfere with practice time _way_ too much. Majoring in journalism worked much better — especially since if I get into the pros, I’ll have to deal with the media. I thought journalism would give me a better appreciation of the process.”

Kara’s logic surprises Lena. Lena always thought she had just opted for some easy business or communications major like most of the other athletes did. But Kara clearly thinks things through more than Lena had previously been crediting her for.

“You really enjoy that game, don’t you?” Lena marvels.

“Yeah!” Kara’s smile is almost blinding as she stares off into the distance. “There’s nothing like it. I actually think you’d enjoy watching a game.”

“Perhaps.” That’s the closest compromise Lena will offer. She has no intention of ever watching a basketball game (let alone any sport) and Kara Danvers is no one to change her mind.

“What about it draws you?” Lena asks curiously. She’s realizing Kara Danvers goes a level deeper than just partying and flirting. It … intrigues her.

Kara’s eyes zone out as if enchanted. “It’s absolutely exhilarating. Out on the court, I feel like I might as well have superpowers. That feeling of power, that pure adrenaline … nothing can compare to it.”

“Nothing?” Lena cocks a teasing eyebrow. At that particular moment, the top sheet covering Lena’s chest slides low into her lap.

Kara blushes. “Maybe some things can come close.”

Lena hums playfully.

Kara gives her a curious look. “What about you?”

“What about me?” Lena echoes, giving Kara a strange look.

“What do you like to do for fun?” Kara asks, her eyes wide with curiosity.

“I thought we weren’t going to get to know each other,” Lena scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest.

Kara gives her an unimpressed look. “It’s just your major, Lena. I could find it online. Besides, like it or not, we are already getting to _know each other_. It might be in the biblical sense, but that doesn’t change the fact that I know there’s a spot on your neck that makes you melt or—”

“—fine, you’ve proven your point,” Lena holds up a hand to silence the other woman. “... I’m getting a double major in engineering and biochemistry.”

Kara’s eyes go wide. “Seriously? Lena, those are the two most difficult degrees offered here. Please tell me you’re not crazy enough to also have a minor or something …”

“Business and computer science,” Lena admits quietly.

“What?” Kara looks at her incredulously. “You’re joking.”

“It keeps me pretty busy,” Lena says humbly. 

“I feel like you legally can’t take that many classes,” Kara says.

“I … had to get special permission from the Dean’s Office,” Lena admits. “They agreed to allow it. I’ve already finished what I need for the minors.”

“Do you even have enough time in the day for all of that homework?” Kara asks. The way she’s looking at Lena is so earnest that Lena feels responsible to elaborate.

“Certain things come easy to me,” Lena confesses. “Being a Luthor has its many downsides, but the family intellect can be quite useful.”

Kara gives her a look that borders a bit too close to admiration for Lena’s liking. “If I had known I was getting into bed with a super genius, I would’ve—”

“—run?” Lena suggests.

“No,” Kara says honestly. “I probably would’ve tried to read a few more books beforehand, though. To make better pillow talk.”

“We’re not even supposed to be making pillow talk,” Lena scolds. The words _pillow talk_ linger in her mouth like a sour aftertaste. How sickeningly … intimate.

Kara gives her a teasing smile. “Whatever, Luthor.” She pauses for a second, as if considering her next move with care. “So tell me, why those majors?”

Lena’s eyes drop down to stare at the bedsheets, a soft smile across her face. “I’ve always wanted to be an engineer, to go into R&D at Luthor Corp. I love solving puzzles, fixing problems, improving solutions,” Lena explains, “As for the rest, biochemistry opens up more research opportunities, and computer science is very useful for robotics development.”

“And business?” Kara asks. “I wouldn't have pegged you for the type, honestly.”

“Lillian _insisted_ on the business minor.” Lena is sure the venom in her voice does not go unnoticed, but she doesn’t care.

“Lillian?” Kara asks.

“My … mother,” Lena says, hesitating for a second too long. Kara seems to sense something is off and bows her head down to catch Lena’s eyes again.

“I’m sure she means well,” Kara says in a neutral, mediatory tone.

Lena can’t stop a wicked chuckle from escaping out her chest. 

Kara pulls back as if Lena just stabbed a knife into the bed. “Did I say something wr—”

“—it’s fine.”

An uncomfortable silence settles between them.

“Do you want me to go?” Kara's voice is so gentle and tender, and it gets under Lena’s skin deeper than any insult could.

“I think that would be best,” Lena says, a layer of ice frosted over her words. Without looking at Kara, she rises from the bed and makes for her bathroom. “You know your way out.”

“Okay,” Kara says in a small voice, almost too quiet for Lena to hear as the bathroom door shuts between them.

About an hour later, Lena’s phone vibrates — shattering the uneasy silence of the night. Lena, already irritated at her inability to fall asleep, picks up the phone with a huff. Even though she has a feeling exactly who it is, there’s still the tiniest bit of surprise when Lena unlocks the phone to read the message.

_**K:** are you okay? I didn’t mean to upset you tonight, i’m sorry _

_I’m completely fine._

_**K:** are you sure? _

_Yes. Stop texting me Danvers, I’m trying to sleep. I’ll see you next weekend._

Kara’s only reply is a thumbs-up. The little icon eats away at Lena’s stomach the rest of the night.

* * *

Kara stomps all the way up the stairs and down the hall into her apartment, which she shares with Alex. It’s a modest size for the two college students; a small kitchen, a living room perfect for their Friday game-nights with friends, and a single bedroom divided into two distinct sides. That’s more a formality than anything, considering how infrequently Alex actually sleeps there.

“You seem especially stompy this morning,” Alex says, looking up over her shoulder from where she’s lying on a couch. Music is playing softly from the TV behind her. The coffee table is covered with papers, Alex’s laptop, and two paper bags from the donut place a block away.

“Is something wrong?” Alex asks as Kara blows a hair out of her face.

“Donuts?” Kara asks in return. “I thought you weren’t eating sugar in season? Did you get me one?”

“I tried,” Alex says, words slightly muffled by the bite in her mouth. She points at one of the bags, indicating to Kara that there’s a donut inside for her. “But Lucy wanted to go get coffee and I couldn’t stop myself. I’m just so stressed out about these med school apps.”

“Alex,” Kara says sweetly, “Any school will be lucky to have you.” She digs her donut out of its respective bag. “And you deserve a donut.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Alex mumbles into her next bite. “About med school.”

“Hey, no pity-parties!” Kara says, plopping down onto the other couch adjacent to Alex. “You’re the top of your class _and_ you’re a college athlete. You tutor on the side, you have plenty of volunteer hours. You’re a walking dream for any admissions officer.”

“Ugh,” Alex sighs, but her body relaxes as Kara’s words sink in. “So what's your deal?”

Kara’s mind flashes back to the previous night. Grey silk sheets, enchanting green eyes, and an icy tone that still burns in her brain. _“You know your way out.”_

She takes a harsh bite out of the donut.

“I, uh --” Kara mumbles. “It’s Coach.” That’s a lie, but only a partial one at least.

“What happened with J’onn?” Alex says, sitting up and facing Kara.

“Nothing specifically,” Kara says. “I just don’t like the new formation he’s having us run. It leaves us too exposed, and the screens take too long to execute.”

Alex hums sympathetically.

“I don’t get why it needs to change. Why fix something that isn’t broken?” Kara continues. “I don’t understand the thought process. Everything was going well, and out of nowhere she wants—”

Kara’s jaw clamps shut as she realizes her error.

“—she?” Alex pulls her head back in scrutiny.

“I meant ‘he’—”

“No, you didn’t, Kara, you’re a terrible liar,” Alex cuts her off. Her eyes grow wide in realization “Oh my god, this is about _her_ , isn’t it? What did Lucy call her?”

“Nope, it’s—”

“Hot girl something? Hot girl bummer!”

“I—”

“Oh, Kara,” Alex says, too far along for Kara to stand a chance at damage control. “Seriously? You’re still seeing the same girl?”

Kara just lets out a sigh of submission. “Yeah.”

“This is what — almost two months — the longest relationship you’ve had since Siobhan, right?” Alex asks. She seems equally concerned and excited by the prospect.

“It’s not a relationship!” Kara objects. “We’re just—”

“—fucking—”

“—it’s just a casual thing. Like acquaintances-with-benefits. We have rules.”

“Rules, huh?” Alex raises her eyebrows. “Like what?”

“Like _no one can know_ , so buzz off,” Kara says, shooting Alex an annoyed glare.

“You really won’t tell me who it is?” Alex asks.

“No.”

“Fine, fine,” Alex sighs. Even she can’t break through Kara’s steel wall when she puts it up, so the older Danvers stands up from the couch and begins to clear the trash off the table.

“Well, whoever it is, what happened?” Alex asks as she moves around.

“We were …” Kara trails off, blushing slightly.

“Fucking, I got it,” Alex grimaces. “For such a fuckboy, you’re awfully bashful about it.”

“It’s weird talking to you about my sex life!” Kara whines.

“How do you think I feel?” Alex retorts, giving Kara a disgusted look.

“Anyways, we were chatting a little bit after, and I said something that upset her somehow,“ Kara explains. “But when I got home, I texted her and she wouldn’t even talk about it.”

“What did you say?” Alex asks.

“Nothing!” Kara says. “Or at least, I thought so. I don’t know what I said wrong.”

“Did you apologize?” Alex asks.

“Yes,” Kara nods. “I still feel bad about it though, Alex. I think I really upset her.”

“Hey, you already apologized,” Alex says. “Either you guys talk it out, or you don’t. It’s not exactly the first time a woman’s been mad at you. I can still hear Leslie’s voice screaming sometimes.”

“Alex, not helping!” Kara scolds.

“Look,” Alex says, her tone deeper. She gives Kara a nurturing but serious look. “It might not be about you. Give it some time.”

“Okay,” Kara draws a deep breath. “You’re right.”

“I always am,” Alex smiles.

Kara beams a throw pillow at Alex in retaliation. Alex catches it and prepares to respond in turn but suddenly the doorbell rings. They freeze — Alex mid-swing — and look at each other in surprise.

Kara hops up to get to the door first. She cracks it open and pops her head into the line of sight, expecting Mike or maybe Lucy, only to be shocked by the identity of their impromptu visitor. 

It’s Lena Luthor.

Lena Luthor, dressed to the nines in a white dress and a long peacoat, is standing outside her shitty college apartment on a Sunday afternoon. 

Fuck, this is going to be hard to explain.

“Hi,” Kara says slowly, covering the door crack with her body. “What are you doing here?”

“Who is it, Kara?” Alex’s voice rings out. Kara waves an impatient hand behind her back.

“Hi,” Lena says, looking at Kara with pleading eyes and an apologetic smile. “Can we talk?”

“Uh, yeah, sure, come in,” Kara says in a rushed breath. As she pulls the door open, she glances back at Alex with panic in her eyes.

“I’m sorry to drop in on you, it’s just—” Lena stops both her sentence and her stride as her eyes fall upon Alex, who now has her hands crossed over her chest and is staring at Lena warily. Kara stands like a deer caught in the headlights, watching helplessly as the two women size each other up.

Lena’s eyes dart from Alex’s face, down the length of her body, then up to the deep purple hickey peeking out from under the collar of Alex’s shirt (courtesy of Maggie). Meanwhile, Alex refuses to break eye contact from Lena, except for a quick questioning glance over to Kara and back. The older Danvers gives Lena a faint smile with tight lips. Even though they’re only a few feet away from Kara, her legs refuse to move forward as she watches the situation play out.

“Oh,” Lena says in surprise, trailing off for a moment. “I know you …” Lena’s head tilts slightly to the side.

“Alex,” the older Danvers says, holding a polite hand out in greeting. “We have bioengineering together, at ten A-M.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” Lena agrees, shaking Alex’s hand curtly. The interaction between the two women feels tense. Kara has complained to Alex about Lena before, multiple times (prior to their current arrangement) and Alex surely remembers that. But Kara is unsure why Lena is so tense.

Finally, Kara’s legs decide to work again and she strolls up to Lena’s side. 

“She’s my sister,” she says over Lena’s shoulder. “We play together on the basketball team too.”

“I didn’t realize,” Lena says smoothly. Her shoulders relax almost imperceptibly, but Kara has spent enough time watching Lena’s body move under her to catch the reaction. 

A moment of silence passes between the three women, none of them knowing how to proceed.

Alex breaks the silence first. “I was just headed out. I’m due at Maggie’s for lunch soon anyways.”

“Have fun,” Kara smiles awkwardly, watching her sister leave. She doesn’t know if she’s grateful for Alex’s exit or not; it solves the immediate awkwardness but ushers in a whole new set of problems.

Alex claps her palms against the backs of her thighs and looks back at Kara with a high degree of suspicion. “See you later.”

A wave of dread washes over Kara as the door shuts behind her sister. It’s going to be near impossible to explain this situation to Alex later. 

“So …” Lena glances at Kara with uncertainty in her eyes.

“How did you know where I live?” Kara asks.

“You had me send a car here one time,” Lena says. “I still had your address.”

“Oh,” Kara says. Her brows furrow. “So what’s up?”

“I—” Lena frowns, looking uncomfortable. “I’m not very good at this …” She lets out a self-deprecating chuckle. 

Kara watches her patiently, eyes soft with concern.

“I’m sorry about last night,” Lena continues. “I shouldn’t have asked you to leave so abruptly.”

“It’s okay,” Kara says.

“Admittedly, my mother is a bit of a … sensitive topic for me,” Lena confesses. She looks so vulnerable in that moment — emerald green eyes clouded by pain — and Kara’s heart pangs in sympathy. If anyone understood complicated parental relationships, it was her.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” Kara sets a comforting hand on Lena’s arm.

“I should have been more graceful though,” Lena says. “I’m sorry for how I acted. I … lash out sometimes, when I’m hurt.”

“It’s okay, you’re only human,” Kara says. “Consider everything forgiven.”

“Thank you for understanding, Kara,” Lena says earnestly. “Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

Kara twists her lips thoughtfully. “I could use a coffee? Something kept me up late last night.” She gives Lena a playful smile.

“Something or someone?” Lena defects with a teasing tone. 

“There’s a great café less than a block away. I spend way too much money there already,” Kara says, motioning over her shoulder at the door. “What do you say?” She recognizes she’s pushing the limits but Kara’s intrigued to see just how far she can get.

Lena hesitates and Kara knows exactly why. She’s not an idiot; she knows Lena is clearly averse to them developing a more casual relationship. Initially, she didn’t mind — she was just in it for the incredible sex — but after several nights together, Kara has found herself a bit spellbound by Lena Luthor. Kara actually _wants_ to get to know her better.

Even though she shouldn’t.

Which is the exact reason their rules exist in the first place. And Kara will respect that; she doesn’t want to make Lena uncomfortable.

“We don’t have to stay and talk, Luthor,” Kara offers. “After we get the coffees we can part ways.”

“You’ve got a deal, Danvers. My treat,” Lena says, nodding in agreement. “Since it’s an apologetic gesture. But this is a one-time thing.”

“Let me guess,” Kara fakes contemplation as she shuts the door behind them. “Lena Luthor takes her coffee black?”

“That’s the only correct way to drink it,” Lena states. “And I imagine you order the most sugar-laden option on the menu?”

“Close,” Kara nudges her shoulder playfully. “My favorite is a pumpkin spice latte. Extra foam with a sprinkle of cinnamon.”

Lena rolls her eyes and Kara smiles. “You’re unbelievable, Danvers.”

“Speaking of unbelievable, I hope you’ve got a good cover story for showing up to my apartment unannounced,” Kara says, wincing at the reminder of the future interrogation coming her way. “Alex is going to see through any lie I come up with.”

“Don’t worry,” Lena says. “If there’s one thing Luthors are good at, it’s lying. I’ll think of something …”

. . . . . . . .

 _“So!” Alex said, not even halfway inside the doorway. “Why was_ Lena Luthor _at our apartment this morning?”_

_Kara drew a deep breath to steel herself. She had practiced this over coffee with Lena plenty of times. She could do this._

_“We’re putting aside our differences,” Kara said simply, “It’s self-care. Grudges take a lot of energy.”_

_“You,” Alex gave her an unbelieving stare. “And Lena Luthor? Putting aside your differences?”_

_“It’s a … new development,” Kara said. Sticking with the truth — Lena advised her that the best lies are half-true. _

_“Since when?” Alex’s eyebrows flew upwards._

_That was to be the key part of this — it had to be established that Kara only started to tolerate Lena Luthor long after she began to hookup with her _ ‘hot girl bummer’ _._

_“This weekend,” Kara lied. Alex wouldn’t know any better; she had stayed in to work on medical school applications, which meant Maggie had gone out with some of her other friends to a different bar. James and Lucy had disappeared early, Winn was sick, and Mike had been too drunk to bother paying attention to Kara's whereabouts. It was the perfect fit._

_“Did you two hookup?” Alex narrowed her eyes at her little sister. A flash of fear pulsed through Kara’s body. “Wait, I thought she had a boyfriend?”_

_“Absolutely not,” Kara lied. “And I don’t know if she does or not. We just had a few shots and chatted for a bit.” She held her breath, anxiously waiting to see if Alex would buy it._

_“I wouldn’t put it past you to sleep with her,” Alex said playfully. “Drunk Kara has mentioned how hot she is more than once.”_

_Well, fuck. She doesn’t have an excuse for that._

_“I have not!” Kara looked at Alex indignantly._

_“Yes, you have.”_

_“Well,_ if _I did say that,” Kara said. “It was just the tequila talking.”_

_“Uh-huh,” Alex smiled smugly. “So what, are you two best friends now?”_

_“Hardly,” Kara scoffed. “She was just returning my card. I forgot it at the bar last night.”_

_“You left your card at the bar!?” Alex scolded. “Kara, you need to keep a better track of it. What if someone else had taken it?”_

_“I know, I know,” Kara said defensively. Even as her ears turned red from Alex’s continued lecturing, she felt her whole body slacken. The older Danvers had since moved on from Kara’s suspicious new ‘friendship’. The lie had worked._

_. . . . . . . ._

For now.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, this is going to be longer than the three chapters originally planned -- I'm having fun with this. Thanks all for the comments and kudos, they are much appreciated.


	3. green is her color

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lena Luthor doesn’t get jealous. Certainly not over Kara Danvers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long one -- much longer than I expected. Hope you all enjoy it ...
> 
> Disclaimer: This is a simple work of fiction -- all names or characters within are thus fictitious. Any resemblance to real people or real names is simply coincidental.

* * *

Lena Luthor does _not_ get jealous.

Especially over such an insignificant fling as Kara Danvers. Even if the woman’s company is slowly growing on Lena. It’s purely physical, that’s all. A simple chemical reaction.

She doesn’t get jealous.

A notification pops up on her phone one random Tuesday: _kdanvers requests to follow you!_

It’s Pandora’s box of intrigue, and for once in her life, she brazenly accepts without thinking. 

_kdanvers is now following lenaluthor!_

_It’s just a fling. It means nothing. She’s just curious to see what Kara’s life is like_ , Lena tells herself as she starts to scroll through the blonde’s social media page. It’s laden with bright and blurry photos — in stark contrast to Lena’s curated, minimalistic (and professional, thank you) profile. Lena usually pays no mind to social media, as it’s hardly a realistic depiction of someone’s actual life. But she can’t help herself as she begins to browse deeper into Kara’s agglomeration of posts. 

About half of the photos have to do with basketball. Most of them are of Kara in her college uniform, either an action shot or mid-celebration with teammates. Lena recognizes the sky blue and black of NCU. Some of the older posts have Kara in a different colored jersey — maroon and yellow, or navy and white. Lena notes with significant interest that Kara Danvers looks hot as hell in a ponytail; Lena’s only ever seen her with her hair down at the bar, or up in a bun during class.

There’s also plenty of photos of Kara with the woman Lena now knows to be her sister, Alex. How uncomfortable _that_ impromptu introduction had been. But those photos don’t bother her. Neither do the photos of Kara with a few guys -- they’re tagged in the posts as ‘money_el’, ‘jmolsen’, and ‘great.schott’. Lena recognizes two of them; Mike Matthews and James Olsen were in some of her business courses. The most memorable picture is of Kara sandwiched between Mike and James, all three making overly-tough faces at the camera. They each wear professional league basketball jerseys over hoodies, holding up the fabric so the number is clear. It’s a true fashion disaster that causes Lena physical pain.

Though those photos are a mildly interesting look into the average life of Kara Danvers, they aren’t the posts that ensnare Lena. No, those would be the photos of Kara partying with multiple beautiful women over the years. Lena finds herself scrutinizing each and every one.

There’s one of Kara and a light-skinned, blonde woman tagged as ‘captlance’ flexing side-by-side while smiling at each other. Lena doesn’t recognize the woman as one of Kara’s friends from school, but they’re clearly standing close enough to be very familiar with each other. The unknown woman has also responded to the post with a ‘ _put the guns away, hot stuff_ ’ and a winky face. Lena can feel her frown deepen. 

Mild annoyance aside, neither woman is wearing a shirt and it makes Lena gulp _hard_. She’s seen Kara more naked than this countless times, but there's something about seeing the thickness of her biceps and the crisp edges of her abs in broad daylight that sends a tingle down Lena’s spine. 

There’s yet another photo that piques Lena’s interest. Kara and a different woman, with brown skin and dark hair, are standing on top of the bar at Al’s. (Lena’s surprised they weren’t kicked out for even attempting that, but Kara _is_ rather friendly with the staff.) Their arms are interlocked as they each drink from beer steins. The other woman looks vaguely familiar and her username is simply ‘msawyer’. Lena is certain she’s seen her at Al’s before. The caption clearly references their antics: _when alex is away, the girls will play …_

The third woman that catches Lena’s attention has bright blue eyes and long black hair. She is slightly taller than Kara, and they’re posing in a tight embrace. The mystery woman has on a golden gown, while Kara is wearing an incredibly flattering navy jumpsuit. The background indicates they’re clearly at some expensive, luxurious bar (Lena’s been dragged inside enough to know). The caption reads: _postgame party with the one and only wonder woman_. Underneath is a heavily-liked comment from a ‘dprince84’: _the true wonder was seeing you_ , _love_ followed by the icon of two little hearts.

Lena’s brow furrows as she reads it. Love? Hearts?

The final one that Lena notices is one of ‘lucylane’ kissing Kara’s cheek while Kara bites down on a candy cane. It’s simply captioned: _mistlehoes!_ Sure enough, Lucy has commented _let’s get lit, lover girl._

Does every fucking woman Kara knows have some cute nickname for her? Lena rolls her eyes so hard they almost get stuck.

The women appear in several other posts. After further investigation into their profiles, Lena learns that Sara Lance and Diana Prince are both professional basketball players, while Lucy Lane and the Sawyer woman (there’s no first name in her profile) play basketball at NCU alongside Kara and Alex.

The faces of these women roll through Lena’s head on repeat.

Simply because they’re all attractive women. No other reason.

Because Lena Luthor doesn’t get jealous.

Certainly not over Kara Danvers.

. . . . . . . .

She also doesn’t get jealous when Andrea mentions that Lena’s one-and-only fuck buddy apparently has quite the reputation.

“Be careful with that one,” Andrea warns Lena. She had just seen Lena and Kara exchange a few playful quips while waiting in line to buy coffee. (Lena _might_ have dragged Andrea out of her way to visit this particular café that she knew Kara frequented. But it was only because the coffee had been really good the last time she was there. That’s all.)

“Be careful of what?” Lena asks. She hands her friend her respective drink.

“Of Kara Danvers,” Andrea repeats, looking at Lena highly unimpressed. “You two were just flirting, were you not?”

“We were absolutely not,” Lena chuckles uncomfortably. “We’re … sufferable acquaintances now, at best.”

“Mhm,” Andrea sips her tea. “You know she has quite the reputation right?”

“Reputation for what?” Lena asks. Admittedly, until this year, Lena knew very little about Kara Danvers — other than that she was annoying and constantly impeding the ease of Lena’s life.

“She’s quite the player, both on and off the court,” Andrea smirks. “She’s one of NCU’s resident fuckboys, Lena.”

“Is she now?” Lena’s stiff jaw pulses as she takes a swig of her black coffee.

“You remember Siobhan Smythe, from macroeconomics? They were fuck buddies last year, briefly.” Andrea says. “Then there’s Lana Lang, that Vasquez girl, Fiona Byrne, Veronica Sinclair—”

“—ugh, the absolute worst—” Lena adds.

“—a couple of basketball players—”

Lena’s mind flashes to the various women throughout Kara’s social media posts.

“—and some other randos too, I’m sure,” Andrea finishes.

“Huh,” Lena could swear she just swallowed acid. “Wait, how do you even know this?”

“Mike Matthews,” Andrea says. “He and I might’ve had a one-night stand last year. He has a penchant for gossip.”

“You slept with _him?”_ Lena asks incredulously, glancing over to where Kara is sitting. Across the table from her was the very Mike in question. In contrast to Kara’s diligent studying, he's playing on his phone, laptop disregarded and headphones on, while bobbing his head to what Lena assumes is music.

“Just once,” Andrea says simply, as if she was ordering food off a menu. “A girl has her needs.”

Lena takes a moment to process the new information. “So did he mention anything else about Kara?” she asks, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

“No,” Andrea eyes her. “Why the sudden interest?”

“No interest at all,” Lena lies. “I just didn’t think her to be the type honestly.”

It’s just surprising. That’s all. Kara’s experience doesn’t bother her. It’s just that, even though Kara knows her way around a bedroom with practiced ease, Lena can’t picture her _with_ anyone else. Can’t imagine the blonde lying satisfied and smiling on any sheets but her own.

“I wonder if she’s seeing anyone right now,” Andrea says. 

Lena freezes.

But to Lena’s immediate relief, her friend is not staring at her with some interrogating look on her face, but instead over at Kara with an almost wistful look on her face. “If I was gay, I’d be under that in a heartbeat … but instead I’m cursed to be ‘tragically straight’, as Jack would say.”

“Tragic, indeed.” Lena’s words are humorous, but there’s just the slightest edge in her voice which hints that maybe she doesn’t think it’s such a tragedy at all.

But she’s _definitely_ not jealous.

. . . . . . . .

And she’s certainly not jealous when Kara herself confirms it.

It’s two o’clock in the morning after a Saturday night out, and Lena is laying in her bed gasping for air while Kara lays smugly beside her. 

“Well, that was fun,” Kara grins. She brings the back of her hand up to her lips, wiping away the remnants of Lena’s arousal and the past hour’s activities. Lena remembers the heat of Kara’s mouth between her thighs. The weightless pleasure. It’s only been a few minutes, but she misses the feeling already.

Lena makes the mistake of asking Kara a question. “How did you get so good at that?”

Kara turns and gives her a playful, cocky smile that instantly makes Lena regret asking. “My incredible work ethic translates to more than basketball, you know.”

The blonde gets up to wash up in the hallway bathroom, and her words eat at Lena while she’s gone.

 _Kara Danvers, the fuckboy_ , Lena thinks, _Andrea was right. She should’ve known as much_. But Lena also can’t help it as her heart twists a little, wondering just who exactly Kara had so much practice with.

 _Siobhan Smythe, Lana Lang, that Vasquez girl, Fiona Byrne, Veronica Sinclair, some basketball players_ , her brain recalls automatically. _To name a few._

She sits up to grab a gulp of water, looking around the chaos of her room. Their clothes have been strewn everywhere. Since it’s now the end of autumn, there are even more layers shed about than usual. The padding of Kara’s footsteps in the living room signals to Lena she’s about to return, to redress then leave as per their routine.

But Lena isn’t quite ready for her to leave. Not with questions still unanswered.

Kara’s turtleneck is on the floor right beside Lena’s edge of the bed. It’s within an arm’s reach. Lena’s impulses win out and she quickly tosses the shirt under the bed so that Kara will be forced to linger a bit longer.

“I should get going,” Kara says, yawning as she walks back in. “It’s been a long day.”

Lena watches Kara redress, the room filled with the sound of pants rustling and Kara’s belt buckle clinking.

“Have you seen my shirt?” Kara frowns, hands on her hips while she glances all over the room.

“No, I don’t think so,” Lena pretends to glance around. “So I’m curious …”

“About what?” Kara asks. She’s circling the room like a dog looking for it’s bone. It’s endearing and Lena would laugh if her mind wasn’t already preoccupied.

Lena draws a deep breath, preparing to keep her tone neutral and emotionless. “Just how many partners have you _practiced_ with?” she asks.

Kara stops in her tracks and stiffens. “I don’t see why that matters … if it’s a health-thing, I promise I’m clean. I get tested after every new partner.”

Sensing her questioning has broached an uncomfortable territory for Kara, Lena decides to withdraw. 

“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” Lena sits up and stretches out a placating hand on top of the sheets over her own lap. “It’s none of my business, forget it.”

Kara looks at the raven-haired woman with her dangerously earnest blue eyes. “It’s okay. Is something on your mind, Lena?”

“No, I—” Lena shakes her head. “Actually, yes. I’ve only ever been with two women before you. And from what I garner, you’re … more experienced than I am. I can’t help but wonder if I’m not a bit out of my depth.”

“Well I couldn’t tell. You’re plenty talented at what you do,” Kara says diplomatically, stepping closer to the bed. “I always enjoy my time with you.”

“I’m sorry again, for asking,” Lena says. “You’re right, it shouldn’t matter. It doesn’t.”

“It’s okay,” Kara says, smiling softly. “I’ve just had others not be as understanding, so I get a bit defensive.”

“I’m so sorry, Kara,” Lena says. Whatever her personal feelings may be, she truly means it. 

“For what it’s worth … the answer is — including you — twenty-one,” Kara says quietly.

“Twenty-one?” Lena’s voice is shocked initially but she manages to play it off with a teasing quip. “The way you were sulking, I had assumed we were well into the hundreds.”

“Whatever, Luthor,” Kara says, rolling her eyes and beaming in relief.

Lena gives her a pleased look.

“I should really go,” Kara repeats, sauntering closer. “I’ve been up since five and I’m gonna fall asleep at any minute.”

“I’m sorry, Danvers, was tonight not exciting enough for you?” Lena teases, giving Kara a playful smile. 

“It was exciting and more,” Kara says, placing a soft kiss on Lena’s mouth. It tastes like mint chapstick and the mouthwash Lena has stocked in her bathrooms. It’s different then the booze-tinged, sloppy kisses from earlier. Lena’s bones protest the intimate gesture but she’s too busy melting into her sheets to pay it much mind.

As Kara pulls back, she spots her shirt sleeve peeking out from under the bed. “Huh,” she says, her forehead crinkling. “I don’t know how it got there.”

“Well, we did come in a bit of a flurry,” Lena offers.

“Very true,” Kara smiles, now fully clothed. She quickly presses another kiss to Lena’s lips before the other woman can process it. “Goodnight, Lena.”

“Goodnight, Kara,” Lena says softly, not wanting to disturb the warm tingle on her lips. She falls asleep quickly that night, no time to remember her earlier conflicted feelings.

Not jealous at all.

* * *

_“Hey sis.”_

_“Lex,” Lena regarded the voice coming through her phone warmly._

_“How are things?” Lex asked._

_“Good.” Lena’s answer was automatic._

_“Excellent,” Lex said. “So, here’s the deal. I’ll be in National City on Saturday night.”_

_“I thought you were supposed to be in Gotham for that chemistry symposium?” Lena said. “Aren’t you discussing one of the new products we’re launching in Q1?”_

_“Well, technically,” Lex brushed it off. “But I need to bail early. The Luthor Corp team here can wrap up after my presentation tomorrow.”_

_“It’s boring, isn’t it?” Lena guessed._

_“It’s_ so _boring,” Lex confirmed. “My talents are being wasted here.”_

_“So then what is bringing you to National City?” Lena asked, suspicion laced through her tone._

_“Besides my delightful baby sister?” Lex said. “You remember Clark, my buddy from college?”_

_“Yes.” An image of a man, blurred by time, popped into her mind. She had met Clark once — a long time ago — when he attended Lionel’s funeral over eight years ago. Lena vaguely remembered him being quiet but having a kind smile._

_“He was at Father’s funeral. Tall, right?” Lena recalled._

_“That’s him,” Lex confirmed. “I know team sports aren’t really your thing, but Clarky is now a big basketball star for Metropolis. The Meteors have a game Saturday versus the National City Nomads. Clark and his team will undoubtedly triumph, and I will be throwing a party to celebrate.”_

_“How fun for you,” Lena said dryly. She could only imagine Lillian’s ire at her son and company heir changing his plans. It was always nice to know Lex shared in invoking the matron’s utter disappointment._

_“Hey, how old are you now?” Lex asked, his voice rising an octave._

_Lena immediately grew suspicious. “Twenty.”_

_“Thought so,” Lex said with a grimace. “I’ll have to pay off the bouncers and the bartenders for their silence.”_

_“I’m sorry, pay off the what?” Lena hissed._

_“Please, I know you’ve been going out to bars again,” Lex said._

_“Who did you hear that from?” Lena asked._

_“Who do you think made those new fake IDs for you and Spheer?” Lex informed her. “I assume I should credit Jack for getting you out of your hermit hole of an apartment?”_

Kara probably deserves more credit that Jack does, _Lena thought._

_“Remind me to make Jack pay for his betrayal later,” Lena said._

_“There’s the littlest Luthor! So vindictive. And you’re welcome to bring him if you want,” Lex said. “Is that back on?”_

_“Absolutely not,” Lena said. “I still like women, Lex.”_

_“Who doesn’t,” Lex agreed. “I meant no offense; it just seems like you and Spheer have been out partying together exponentially more than you used to.”_

_“Hardly,” Lena rolled her eyes._

_“Really? Because it looks like you’re finally letting yourself have fun, Lena,” Lex said. “Speaking of fun — my party Saturday. You’re coming.”_

_“No,” Lena said. “Has it occurred to you I might have better things to do?”_

_“Do you?” Lex challenged. Lena’s mind flashed over to a pair of twinkling blue eyes, a rock-solid body, and the cool grey silk of her bedsheets._

_“Lex.”_

_“Lena,” Lex said, voice softening. “Please. I need you there.”_

_“Why?”_

_“You’re my baby sister and I miss you,” Lex confessed. “Metropolis is dull without you. No one else can play at my level.”_

_Lena sighed, already regretting the words that were about to leave her mouth. It would be nice to see Lex again. The last time was months ago, over the summer. Lex kept pretty busy between Luthor Corp business and his own personal affairs. Even when Lena went back to Metropolis for semester breaks, she still didn’t see him all that much._

_“Fine, I’ll be there. For—”_

_“Yes!”_

_“—for a little while.”_

_“Excellent,” Lex said. “I’ll send you the info. You’re my favorite sister!”_

_“I’m your only sister,” Lena deadpanned._

_“Touché,” Lex said. “See you Saturday, sis.”_

. . . . . . . .

Lena chooses a deep emerald dress for the night, tight and racy as any cocktail dress should be. The shade matches her killer heels perfectly. Her hair is down and straightened to hide the final remnants of a hickey Kara left last weekend. She’s fit to be the image of Luthor perfection.

Once she finishes applying a coat of flawless red lipstick to her lips, her phone buzzes as if on cue. She recaps the stick and trades it for the device.

_**K:** hey my cousin kal is in town tonight, i’m going with him to his friend’s party. probably won’t make it over to your place tonight _

_That’s fine. I’ve got a family function of my own tonight._

_**K:** good luck :) _

Lena ignores the tinge of disappointment in her chest as she continues getting ready.

Lex has already sent a driver over for Lena to take to the club. It’s about a fifteen minute drive away from Lena’s apartment, in the heart of downtown National City. There are several muscle-bound men waiting outside; one sees the car pull up and begins to walk over. As he approaches, Lena recognizes the man as the head of Lex’s security team.

“Miss Luthor?” he asks.

“Hello, Finch,” Lena greets out the window.

“Ready to head up, Miss Luthor?” Finch says, pulling open the door and holding out a hand. 

“Sure. Thank you, Finch,” she says, taking his hand for stability as she slides out of the car in her wickedly high heels. Once upright, she pulls the strap of her slim Birkin bag over her shoulder.

“My pleasure, Miss Luthor,” he says. It’s a fairly direct path up. There’s a separate door to the VIP floor (Lex never settles for anything less), and they pass through the crowds and bouncers without issue. The bass vibration from the main floor of the club can still be felt, rattling around in Lena’s ribcage.

Finch gestures to the open doorway, holding the rope aside for her to pass through unhindered. “Enjoy your night, Miss Luthor.”

“Thank you, Finch,” Lena nods goodbye and heads inside. 

The VIP floor looks luxurious as any of the Metropolis clubs Lena has attended before, usually at Lex’s behest. Everything is dimly lit in warm light and there are copious amounts of crystal and luxury stone everywhere to complete the lavish theme. There’s a designated dance floor off to one side, illuminated by LEDs yet somehow darker than the rest of the room, and a giant wrap-around bar in the middle of the space. Leather-clad booths line the walls of the expansive room. There are guests everywhere dressed to the nines in expensive and risque clubwear.

It’s not hard to find the host, considering Lex is currently standing on top of a large granite table in the front of the room. He’s clearly been drinking already; his suit coat is long gone, his button-up sleeves are rolled up his forearms, and his beard is slightly disheveled. His bald head is shiny with sweat. There’s a bottle of unopened champagne clasped in his hands.

“Good evening, my esteemed guests!” Lex yells, and the DJ turns down the music so he can be heard easily. It happens so fluidly. Lena feels a smile pull on the corner of her mouth. Only Lex could look so natural yet striking, so sloppy yet collected, while standing up on a table in a club.

“Everyone, raise your glasses. Tonight, we have something to celebrate!” Lex’s voice projects throughout the room.

Everyone in the room remains silent, waiting in anticipation for Lex to continue.

“Congratulations to our Metropolis Meteors on a game well-won! Gentlemen, you remain one of the last gems of Metropolis and I am _honored_ to be your host tonight,” Lex smiles over the bottle, using it to salute the crowd. 

He then turns to point to one of the far corners. Whatever he’s pointing at, it’s too far away for Lena to see. “And to our very own Superman, who just shattered his career high points — let’s keep that up during playoffs, yeah Clark?”

The crowd lets out a horde of cheers and whistles. Lex pops the cork out of the champagne and rapidly shakes it, letting it foam and spray wildly over the people below. In the midst of the chaos, Lex’s eyes lock onto Lena and a sly smile spreads across his face.

Lex holds out his arms to his sides, the bottle in his hand still foaming slightly. “Next round on me!” He lets out one final holler before hopping back down to the floor.

Lena remains still, knowing Lex is already on his way over to greet her. She knows how much he enjoys hosting parties like this — and he’s always in rare form when he gets to share in it with her. Sure enough, he appears before her, looking disheveled and possessed by untamed enjoyment.

“The Lost Princess graces us with her presence!” Lex throws an arm around Lena’s shoulders. He already smells heavily of alcohol, and his shirt is damp with what Lena guesses is the champagne from moments earlier. “I’m honored you made it. I need to introduce you to Clark!”

“Lex,” Lena smiles at him. “First, I believe you owe me a drink …”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Lex steers them over to the bar immediately. He waves down one of the bartenders, “Put her on my tab. Whatever she wants.”

“Scotch, neat,” Lena requests.

“Yes, ma’am,” the bartender darts off to make the drink.

“Did you enjoy my little speech?” Lex asks rhetorically. “You should’ve seen the game tonight. Clark was unbelievable to watch.”

“So, why do they call him Superman?” Lena asks conversationally, leaning against the bar as her eyes wander over all the faces in the crowd. None of them seem overly familiar, but the people at Lex’s grandiose parties never do. Lena wonders where he always finds these people to attend, as there are seldom any memorable repeats. She can’t imagine Lex even knows who they all are.

Lex gives her an incredulous look. “Clark’s one of the best players ever. He might as well be a god amongst men out on that court.”

“I see,” Lena says, taking a hold of the freshly-poured glass. “Thank you,” she tells the bartender.

“Okay, you have your drink now,” Lex says, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Time to meet Superman himself. His cousin is here too. She’s rather stunning.” He gives Lena a wink.

“Lex, I’m really just here for—”

“—humor me, Lena. Clark is one of my closest friends,” Lex says. “Besides, you’re already here. Mingle! Flirt! It beats sitting in a dark corner by yourself.”

“Alright, fine,” Lena relents.

Lex leads her over towards the back of the club, where there are several dimly lit booths on the periphery of the walls. If Lena had to guess, a fair few of the patrons sitting back here, chatting over drinks, comprise the Meteors’ roster. They are all rather tall and athletic-looking, dressed in clothes that drip money. Which is true for pretty much everyone here — Lena included.

In the large corner booth, Lena can make out two male figures. One is talking to the other, gesturing excitedly with his hands. The other is sitting calmly and listening.

“Clark!” Lex barks, and the two men stop conversing and slide out of the booth to stand. The first man out is blonde, wearing slacks, a button-up, and a leather bomber jacket with his tie askew. He would look a bit underdressed compared to many of the other patrons, but moves with enough confidence to make it work — Lena tries to remember if this is Clark. His confidence borders on arrogance. Surely, the legendary _Superman_ would have the ego to match.

The other man has dark hair and stunning steel blue eyes that, for Lena, invoke a strange … nostalgia? She can’t quite place why. He’s wearing a dark blue suit that fits him naturally, like a second skin. There’s a thin gold chain around his neck, but whatever pendant is on it is obscured by his tie. He stands very passively, idly picking at the label of a beer so cheap Lena is surprised this club would even serve it.

“Clark, this is my infamous little sister,” Lex says, motioning between her and the dark-haired man. The blue-suited man — _so this is Clark_ , Lena realizes with surprise — gives her a kind smile. 

“You must be Lena,” Clark says, reaching out a friendly hand for her to shake.

“Nice to meet you, again,” Lena says, shaking hands. He’s got a firm, powerful grip.

“It’s been many years,” Clark says, still smiling softly. He turns to the side to acknowledge the other man. “This is Steve Trevor. He plays for the Meteors as well.”

“Pleasure,” the blond man shakes Lena’s hand briskly.

“Nice to meet you,” Lena says. She tries to think of what to say next, vaguely remembering Kara telling her how it’s good form to congratulate players after victories. “Congratulations on your win tonight, gentlemen.”

“Thank you,” Clark smiles again. Lena’s surprised by his easy demeanor. He’s almost the antithesis to Lex’s over-the-top explosive and dramatic personality.

“How come Lois couldn’t make it tonight? She’s not getting bored of you, is she?” Lex teases.

Clark gives him a look of mock-annoyance, but the affection in his eyes belies his true feelings. “I think it had something to do with the fact she just had our child, Lex. Two months ago? Remember? You sent a gift.”

“As if I could forget,” Lex says, “Your sudden proclivity for dad jokes is nauseating.”

Lena raises an eyebrow. Dad jokes? The more time she spent around the man, the harder it was to believe _this_ Clark Kent was the same one as the legendary, larger-than-life basketball player everyone treated like a god. Were it not for the well-fitted suit and chiseled physique, she would have an easier time believing him to be some mild-mannered, average man.

“Lois thinks they’re funny,” Clark mumbles.

“You just had a child?” Lena redirects the conversation.

“Yes,” Clark’s eyes light up and he breaks into a huge grin. “A boy — Jonathan. My wife Lois usually travels along for the games, but because of Jon she’s sitting this season out.”

“Congratulations,” Lena wishes.

“Excuse me,” Steve says politely, raising his empty glass in explanation. “Time for a refill.” He begins to walk away, but turns back to point an accusatory finger at Clark. “And you — stop showing my fiancée those baby photos. I don’t need you both teaming up on me.”

“I’ll take my leave as well,” Lex says, looking somewhere far across the room. “An important guest just arrived. Lena, when you’re done with Clarky here, come find me. I have someone else I’d like you to meet.”

“Sure, Lex.” Lena tries to keep the annoyance out of her voice. 

Clark chuckles good-naturedly and turns to look at Lena. “So, Lex tells me you’re currently here in National City for college?”

“NCU.” Lena nods politely, praying he’s not about to ask her major next. Between Luthor family galas and fundraisers and social dinners, she’s had enough small-talk about her educational path to last a lifetime.

“Oh, maybe you know my cousin? She goes there too,” Clark’s eyebrows lift in excitement at the prospect. “She actually came with me tonight, since Lois couldn’t make it.” 

His eyes suddenly zone past Lena and his chin tilts in acknowledgement of someone. “She’s on her way over here now, actually.”

Clark beams and holds an arm out in greeting, and a woman slides over to it. Before Lena has a chance to take the sudden motion in, the woman extends a beer to his chest and says “Here you are, Kal.”

Kal?

Everything clicks at once. The voice. The name “Kal”. The woman in front of Lena is wearing a full maroon suit with a matching button-up, and there’s an all-too-familiar golden crest necklace resting in place of a tie. Lena’s seen it before, dangling down over her face while getting thoroughly fucked by a certain someone. And as Lena’s gaze moves higher — sure enough — there are waves of long blonde hair, perfect pink lips, and a pair of gentle steel blue eyes.

Apparently, Clark Kent’s cousin is none other than _Kara fucking Danvers_.

“Kara?!” Lena can’t contain her surprise, her jaw parting slightly as her brows furrow.

“Lena? I had no idea you’d be here!” Kara practically jumps with excitement, her head tilted back in surprise. “Wow, you look amazing!”

“Oh, so you both do know each other?” Clark says, a smile identical to Kara’s plastered on his face. Must be hereditary. “That’s amazing! Small world.”

“Hello, Kara,” Lena says. Her voice is restrained, desperate to remain as neutral as possible in an attempt to recover her hand.

“How do you two know each other?” Clark asks.

“Uh, we …” Kara flounders, looking to Lena for salvation. The blonde’s face is already bright red, and Lena knows it’s not just from the alcohol. The last time she’s seen Kara this awkward and unsure before was when she had walked in on Kara and Alex at their apartment. It would almost be endearing, were it not for the fact it implicates Lena in a way she’d prefer to avoid.

“Had a class together,” Lena recovers gracefully. “A few over the years, actually.”

“Oh, that’s great,” Clark says, taking a swig of his new beer.

Lena doesn’t know how to move the conversation further, but she doesn’t have to figure it out. Out of nowhere, a tall woman with dark hair and long legs wraps herself over Kara’s shoulders from behind. Lena recognizes her from some of Kara’s pictures. She’s taller in person, almost amazonian.

“Kara, there you are!” she says. She speaks with an accent — Greek, maybe? — and her voice is so light and airy that it’s almost mystical. It should be soothing. But instead Lena finds herself annoyed, with a smoldering feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“Lena, this is Diana Prince,” Kara introduces. Diana unwraps herself from Kara. Lena can now see she’s wearing a bright blue gown with no back; it displays her finely sculpted shoulder muscles perfectly. _Not quite as nice as Kara’s_ , Lena can’t help but think.

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” Diana chimes, pulling Lena into a hug before the Luthor can dodge it. Diana is unbelievably warm and somehow smells like a sweet sea breeze.

“Nice to meet you,” Lena says, smoothing out her dress once Diana releases her.

“Diana and I used to play basketball together for NCU,” Kara explains. “She was a senior when I was a freshman. Now she’s playing in the NWBL.”

“NWBL?” Lena asks.

“National Women's Basketball League,” Kara explains. “Clark and Steve play in the Men’s League.”

“It is only a matter of time before you join me, Supergirl,” Diana grins at Kara, pressing their foreheads together. It’s an intimate gesture and Lena feels a scowl sinking into her face.

“I can’t wait,” Kara smiles in return, but pulls her forehead away.

“Are you from Metropolis as well?” Lena asks.

“Oh, no,” Diana waves, “Gateway City is my home these days. Though Metropolis does have its charms.” She and Clark share a chuckle and Lena instantly feels like an outsider among the three basketball players.

“Diana’s on the Gateway City Guardians,” Kara elaborates. “They played the National City Novas yesterday.”

“I see,” Lena says. “Why don’t both teams from the same city play their respective counterparts each time?” _Why is Diana here?_ she wants to ask. _Is she here for you, Kara?_

“Sometimes they do, sometimes they don’t,” Kara shrugs. 

Lena hums. “How inefficient for travel.”

“Eh, it’s not really about travel,” Kara says. “The ‘MBL and ‘WBL use the same stadiums, so they have to coordinate. It’s a whole big thing.”

“Interesting.”

“Enough business talk, ladies,” Diana says lightly. “This is a party. We should be dancing!”

“That’s a great idea! Lena, want to dance?” There’s a glint in Kara’s eyes that makes it perfectly clear; this is a challenge. Kara is pushing at the rules of their arrangement, and Lena doesn’t appreciate it.

“Actually, I could use another scotch,” Lena says harshly.

“I will dance, Kara,” Diana says in her ethereal accent.

“Have fun you two,” Lena snips, giving Kara a wickedly fake smile as she walks away.

Begrudgingly, she goes to find Lex. She has absolutely zero patience for any more introductions, so she prays this one is some distant, familiar face.

Well, she gets what she wishes for.

Lex is sitting on a luxurious lounge chair, a blonde woman in an impossibly-short dress perched on the arm of it. His arm is curled low around her waist, hand cupping her ass. Lena wants to vomit. This can’t be good.

(It’s not.)

“Lena,” Lex smiles as she walks over with great apprehension. “Excellent. There’s someone I’d like you to meet. You remember Eve, right?”

Eve Teschmacher — once a friend of Lena’s during boarding school, but later estranged after outing Lena and her first girlfriend, Taylor, to Lillian — is sitting on her brother’s lap like a proud and pompous housecat.

“How could I forget,” Lena says with full hostility.

“Lex and I are dating now,” Eve says excitedly, giving Lena a viscous smile while she trails a hand down Lex’s chest. His shirt has been unbuttoned halfway — Lena can’t _imagine_ how that came to be. 

“Are you now?” It’s all Lena can manage to get out before the fire in her throat threatens to spill over.

“He’s _such_ a sweetheart,” Eve giggles.

“I’m the lucky one, baby,” Lex says, firmly squeezing her ass. _Baby indeed_ , Lena thinks, almost gagging at the idea of her brother dating someone nine years his junior.

Lex turns back to Lena. “We were just about to do some lines. Are you interested, or do you still have an aversion to fun?”

Lena glances down at the coffee table in front of Lex. She couldn’t see it when she first walked over, but sure enough, hidden behind the LED table centerpiece are three lines of white powder and Lex’s platinum credit card. Between his fingers is a tightly rolled hundred dollar bill.

Suddenly, Lena remembers why she stopped going to these functions.

“Lexy?” Eve says impatiently, plucking the rolled bill from Lex’s fingers. She then swiftly bends down in front of the table.

“Lexy?” Lena can almost taste the bile in her mouth.

“Ah, Eve …” Lex trails off. That’s as much of an explanation as he can offer over the top of Eve’s back as she snorts her line, and that’s all the explanation Lena needs.

“Are you fucking serious, Lex?” Lena raises a cruel eyebrow. “I take it this is the real reason you invited me here tonight.”

“I know it’s a little awkward, but Eve feels terrible about the past,” Lex flexes his palms open. “And I wanted to see you. It’s good to have you here, Lena. I want you to be a part of my life.”

“When it’s on your terms,” Lena snaps.

“Lena …” Lex pleads.

“I hope you two enjoy your ‘ _fun’_ ,” Lena says with measurable disdain. “I think I’m due for another drink.”

Lena blesses her lucky stars that Lex doesn’t follow after her.

“Scotch, please,” Lena says to the bartender, throwing herself into a barstool. “Make it your most expensive one. On the Luthor tab.”

“Coming right up, miss.”

Lena makes herself busy sitting at the bar, tucked into the side corner. From her vantage point, she can see the dance floor. It’s packed with people; sweaty, drunken bodies grinding and bumping up against each other. Every so often the crowd will part and Lena gets an eyeful of Diana and Kara dancing together. The first time she sees them, some quick-paced upbeat song is playing and they’re dancing wildly around each other. As much as the scene irks her, Lena must acknowledge that Kara is a fairly talented dancer. Not something she would’ve expected … though how different is a dance floor from the bedroom, truly?

Kara’s playful blue eyes meet hers from across the room, excitement and temptation written all over them. Her eyebrows flex upwards briefly in invitation. For a second, Lena considers marching over there to shove her tongue down Kara’s throat, to wipe that smug look off the blonde’s face. She almost does. But the next time she sees the pair, the music has deteriorated into something borderline hedonistic and Diana is grinding into Kara’s crotch as Kara pumps her own arms above her head. Kara’s eyes meet hers again and Lena wants to splash her drink in the other woman’s face. She loses them again in the crowd. 

The next time she sees Kara, Diana is gone and her spot is now occupied by two other women, who are clearly fawning all over Kara. Lena polishes off her scotch and starts on another. And another.

Her hand itches for her phone. She’s drunk and sad and angry. She wants to call Sam — even though it's been six months since they last talked — and she wants to tell her how shitty her night is going. How one of her estranged friends from high school is apparently sleeping with her brother now, how apparently his coke habit is back (did it ever disappear?), and how the one good thing in her life is currently grinding on some Grecian beauty on the dance floor.

She wants to cry. She can feel the threat of it swell in her throat. She’s even only at this idiotic party for Lex, who she has no desire to be around right now. She doesn’t want to be at the club anymore, but for some reason she can’t summon the strength to leave. So she drinks instead. 

She’s on her fourth whiskey when Kara interrupts her.

“Lena,” Kara greets cautiously. 

“Danvers.”

“... I must say, green is _definitely_ your color. You really do look gorgeous.” Kara’s voice is painfully earnest.

“I see you’re enjoying your night,” Lena bites, staring down into her half-empty glass.

“I am, actually,” Kara says, her tone still genuine. “Are you, Lena? Because you look kind of miserable.”

Lena sucks on her teeth angrily. “Did you really just come over here to insult me, Danvers?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean that,” Kara apologizes. “I was just offended you didn’t want to dance with me. You barely seem to want to talk to me.”

“What makes you think I _would_ want to talk to you?” Lena snaps.

“Woah,” Kara flinches back. “Lena, did I do something wrong?”

“Not at all,” Lena pounds the remainder of her scotch. “Another, please.”

“Then what’s going on with you?”

“Nothing. Stop pestering me, Danvers. Don’t you have someone random to go hookup with?” Lena snips, meeting Kara’s concerned look with fire in her eyes. Lena’s upper lip is pulled up slightly into a snarl.

“What?” Kara looks shocked and confused for a second. “Lena, I’m not hooking up with anyone but you,” she says, an edge of exasperation to her words. She holds open hands up by her shoulders and Lena tries to ignore how good she really looks in that suit.

Lena’s head twitches to the side and her mind races to catch up to the new information. “Oh. But Diana …?”

“Is just a friend,” Kara assures, lowering her arms. “She’s a literal goddess, but I’m not into her in that way. Her fiance, Steve, is though.”

“And the other girls?”

“Are strangers,” Kara says. “I just like dancing … the entire time I wanted it to be you out there, dancing with me.”

Suddenly, Lena feels very stupid. Embarrassed. Ashamed. It’s not an unfamiliar cocktail of emotions for her. She’s felt it many times before at the hand of her mother. Lillian might as well have just scolded ten-year-old Lena for her handwriting, or fourteen-year-old Lena for wearing sweatpants out in public, or seventeen-year-old Lena for being sent to the headmistress’s office after getting caught passing love notes to her classmate, Taylor.

“I should go,” Lena says quickly, rising to her feet. She has her Birkin bag in a death-grip.

“Hey,” Kara says, reaching out to grab her wrist and anchor her. “I get it. I thought you and Jack were together too. It was an honest mistake — nothing to worry about.”

Lena wants to yank her arm away from Kara, but there’s something gentle and protective in the touch that is undeniable. It makes her want to melt into Kara’s arms, just like she usually does during their late-night romps. But she wouldn’t allow that of herself, not here at least.

Lena lets out a deep exhale. She does allow Kara’s reassurance to wash over her, quelling the mess of emotions inside her chest. “Okay. Okay.”

Kara looks at her with attentive blue eyes and it’s a new kindness Lena hasn’t known. “Do you want to get out of here?” Kara asks.

Lena shoots one last glance in Lex’s direction, though she can’t see him from this vantage point. “More than anything,” she admits with an exhale.

“Okay,” Kara nods assuringly. “Just let me go say goodbye to Clark first. He flies back to Metropolis early in the morning. Stay here, okay? I’ll be right back.”

She doesn’t wait for Lena to respond before darting back into the party crowd. Unable to cope with the lack of distractions, Lena orders yet another scotch while she waits. (In hindsight, that move would ultimately be her undoing.) It doesn’t take her long to finish it off. She considers just getting up and leaving, but Kara reappears before she’s decided.

“Ready to go,” Kara says, intertwining her fingers with Lena’s. They’ve held hands before — stumbling through Lena’s apartment complex hallways or in bed — but there’s something new and foreign about the feeling of Kara’s calloused hand now locked with her own like this.

Kara quickly shifts them through the crowded club, walking with a confidence and an agency Lena hasn’t seen before. It’s admittedly a very attractive look on the blonde. She ignores the sudden dampness between her legs.

Once they get outside, the cold air hits them like a blow to the face. Suddenly, Lena’s shoulders are wrapped in warmth before the night air has a chance to chill her bones. One glance over and Lena realizes Kara’s draped her suit coat around Lena’s shoulders.

“Kara, you don’t have to—” Lena begins to protest.

“I run hot,” Kara winks at her. “Besides, with the way your dress is cut, I’m still more covered than you are.”

Lena would argue but she's too grateful for the warmth, and the fact the blazer smells like Kara’s enrapturing cologne doesn’t hurt either. Deflecting it is, then.

“Have you been ogling my dress, Danvers?” Lena teases.

“Ogling, gawking. Call it what you like,” Kara shrugs. “I ordered a ride-share for us back to your place, I hope that’s okay.”

“A bit presumptuous, aren’t we?” Lena says, but it would seem Kara misses her playful tone.

“I just thought, since you’re the one in heels — I don’t have to come up, I just figured I could walk home easier than—”

“—it’s fine, Kara,” Lena says with amusement. “Thank you.”

“How are you doing?” Kara asks. She watches with concern as Lena sways a little. Lena starts to regret wearing such tall heels.

Lena sighs. “I’m fine.”

Kara opens her mouth to probe further, but suddenly a car pulls up alongside the curb and Kara jumps to attention.

“Oh, this is our ride,” Kara says. She helps Lena into the car before getting in herself.

There’s something about the warm air inside the car and the comfortable leather seats that set the next events in motion. Her eyelids droop heavily and her stomach begins to churn along with the motion of the vehicle. There’s a pressure right under her sternum that makes her nauseous. She ignores it until she can’t ignore it anymore.

“Kara, I don’t feel so good …”

The sound of retching fills the vehicle as Lena begins to throw up into her Birkin bag.

“Hey!” the driver yells, whipping his head back to confirm his fear.

“It’s okay, it’s all in her bag!” Kara’s voice promises. “Everything’s fine. I’ve got this.”

The driver turns back around grumbling about ‘idiot college kids’. It feels like the car moves faster after that, but Lena’s so sensitive to the motion now it’s hard to tell if it really does. Lena’s eyes are now completely closed, her face shoved into her Birkin bag. Her body tenses as the contents of her stomach continue to empty.

She vaguely realizes Kara is holding her hair back, and there is a soothing pressure on her upper back — that must be Kara’s hand. There’s a burning heat in her cheeks but everything else feels numb. Her last thought is gratitude that she can’t see the look on Kara’s face right now.

Lena doesn’t remember anything after that.

* * *

Kara is able to get Lena up to her apartment without anything going horribly wrong. Much to the relief of their driver, the backseat of the vehicle remains free of any vomit. It’s all restrained in Lena’s now-ruined handbag. Kara apologizes to him profusely (she also tips him a sum larger than their actual ride fare) as she drags Lena out of the vehicle. 

Surprisingly, Lena Luthor can still walk decently well in heels that should be way too tall for any drunk person. Even so, Kara wraps one of her arms around Lena’s waist to stabilize her, and uses the other to pull Lena’s arm taut across her broad shoulders so the drunk woman stays upright.

Lena seems to stir back to some level of lucidity in the elevator.

“Easy,” Kara says as Lena lurches away from her. It’s times like these that Kara is truly grateful for her impressive strength, as it’s easy enough to guide Lena’s weight where she needs it to be. She could probably physically pick the Luthor up if it comes to that — there’s a decent chance she gets puked on in the process, and Kara’s wearing her nicest suit. (Not only is it fairly expensive, but it was a gift from Clark and Lois after she added suits to her wardrobe, so it’s sentimental as well).

“Why did Diana call you su-per-girl?” Lena slurs.

“You’re joking, right?” Kara asks, looking down at Lena in amusement. The raven-haired woman’s eyes flutter open slightly before falling closed again.

“No …” Lena drawls. “Why … do they call you Supergirl?”

“It’s a nickname from basketball,” Kara smiles. “You know, you’re finally going to watch a game one of these days.” (It’s her not-so-secret mission; Kara is somehow going to convince Lena Luthor to watch one of her games before they’re all said and done.)

“No …” Lena whines, flopping her head back onto Kara’s shoulder.

The elevator dings and the doors part. Kara takes Lena on a beeline for her apartment. She has a feeling Lena’s not quite done throwing up yet.

She’s not.

Lena ends up slumped over the toilet in her bathroom, head practically in the bowl, arms propping herself up, and legs crumpled under her. Not knowing what to do with Lena’s soiled bag, Kara tosses it in the sink.

“Do you have any hair-ties?” Kara asks. She’s holding Lena’s hair up with one hand, her superior wingspan stretched to the max across the bathroom as she pulls open the vanity drawers.

“Top right,” Lena mumbles. Thankfully, it’s a drawer within reach. Kara removes Lena’s killer heels next.

Once Kara gets Lena better situated, she steps back and inspects the bathroom while Lena wretches more into the porcelain bowl. Kara hasn’t been in this bathroom yet; she started out using the hallway bathroom and kept up with that pattern. Using Lena’s personal bathroom might’ve been too intimate for the woman to handle.

It’s a very luxurious bathroom — even more so than the hallway bathroom — and the decor is as seamlessly elegant as the rest of the apartment. There’s lots of white and neutral colors, smooth stone edges, and sterile surfaces. There’s a spacious walk-in shower at the rear of the room, open to the rest of the room. Kara imagines she’d have the best shower of her life in there.

The sound of Lena coughing brings her back to focus.

“Are you okay?” Kara leans over the toilet, trying to examine Lena’s pale face.

“Ugh,” Lena groans. Okay, good, not choking. “ _Why_ did I have that last scotch?”

“I don’t think you’re going to be able to have that scotch again, for a little while,” Kara says. “I doubt you’ll even be able to stand the smell.”

Lena groans in agreement.

“How many did you have, Lena?” Kara asks with mild interest.

“I don’t know,” Lena says, rubbing her brow. “I just kept ordering them.”

“Why?” Kara tries to keep her voice as neutral as possible.

“I was upset,” Lena says. “And I was jealous. Watching Diana dance with you.”

Kara breaks out into a giant grin. _Lena Luthor_ was jealous? Over her? That one sentence more than made up for the dirty looks Lena had sent her way all night.

“You were jealous?” It just slips out of Kara’s triumphant mouth.

“Well, green _is_ my color,” Lena states. Her tone is self-deprecating at best.

Kara soaks in her victory a bit longer, until Lena continues her drunken rant.

“Oh, and my brother is now fucking the girl who outed me to my mother in high school,” she tells Kara. “So … I needed the scotch.” She gives Kara a rueful smile and the blonde feels a piece of her heart break.

“I’m sorry, Lena,” Kara winces. “I know family stuff is complicated for you, but I’m here if you ever want to talk.”

“Complicated is an understatement,” Lena scoffs. “And I don’t do … tragic backstory ‘talks’.”

“Why not? We’re friends,” The words slip out of Kara’s mouth before she can stop them.

“Because then—” Lena’s answer is cut short as she begins to throw up again. Kara rubs her back through the rhythmic clenching of her ribcage.

“Do you think you’re done?” Kara asks after a pause. The answer comes in the form of more retching.

“Apparently not,” Kara answers for her. “I’m going to go get you some water.”

Kara quickly darts into the kitchen and begins yanking open cabinet doors until she finds the drinking glasses. She’s never really spent much time in any room of the apartment other than Lena’s bedroom, but she’s getting the full tour tonight. 

The kitchen is even more barren than Lena’s bathroom, save an impressive array of identical coffee mugs. Kara doubts Lena ever cooks; the pots and pans look brand new. She must order takeout constantly or something — _perks of being rich_ , Kara supposes, _it’s the college student dream_.

She spares her suit coat from the rest of the night by draping it over a chair on her way back to Lena.

Lena drinks the water gratefully, draining about half the glass in one go. Kara tops it off in the bathroom sink.

“How are you feeling?” Kara asks. Her eyes are carefully trained on Lena’s form.

“I’m fine,” Lena tells the toilet, “I’m fucking fine.” Kara reaches to adjust her sagging ponytail, only to have Lena slap her hand away. “Don’t touch me.”

Great, she’s in the combative phase of the blackout. At least that means the throwing-up is almost over.

“I’m just trying to help, Lena,” Kara soothes.

Lena laughs ruefully. “Of course you are … y-you’re a fucking saint.”

Kara stays silent while Lena continues to ramble.

“Saint Danvers,” Lena says, “So holier than thou. So fucking … perfect.”

Kara isn’t sure whether to smile or be offended, but her heart races anyways.

“I can’t … stand you,” Lena tells her.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Kara brushes it off, chalking it up to the alcohol and the remnants of their old dynamic. It’s been pretty clear recently that Lena can, in fact, stand being around her and more.

“N-no you don’t,” Lena slurs. “You ruined me. All I can think of every week … is getting you back in my bed.”

“Is that right?” Kara’s loving every minute of this.

“Fuck you, Danvers.” A redundant middle finger waves hello. 

Kara chuckles at that. “You wish you could, Luthor. Maybe next weekend.”

Lena moans a half-hearted complaint.

“Do you want more water?” Kara asks, offering the glass out.

“No,” Lena grumbles. Her head rolls sideways onto her arm so her face can now be seen.

Kara wouldn’t tell a single soul, but it’s an amusing scene to watch. Lena Luthor, who is never seen with even a single hair out of place, is currently halfway passed out on her toilet — makeup smeared and designer dress rumpled as hell. If Kara didn’t know for certain it was Lena herself, she would think the other woman was some imposter.

Lena always commands a room with such power and control — it’s one of the things Kara finds so magnetic about her — but this version of her is so far removed that Kara’s cognitive dissonance has never been higher. Sure, it only takes Kara minutes to get Lena absolutely _unraveled_ under her when they’re having sex, but this is different. It’s oddly platonic. 

Lena looks so small and soft and _vulnerable_. It twists Kara’s heart in a way she wouldn’t expect.

“Don’t worry, Lena,” Kara whispers, looking at Lena’s sleeping form. “I’ll take care of you.” 

Lena falls asleep for a while. Kara glances at her every so often, but the woman hasn’t moved from her rather uncomfortable-looking position. She decides she needs something to focus on that isn’t Lena, so she busies herself cleaning out the contents of Lena’s purse. It’s pretty gross. 

Kara winces with disgust, glancing up at the ceiling as she fishes Lena’s phone and wallet out. _Oh, you owe me big, Lena_ , Kara thinks.

The various credit cards are easy to clean but the phone presents more of a challenge. The fact that Lena apparently has something against phone cases doesn’t help. But eventually Kara gets it to look presentable, then leaves it to dry on the bathroom vanity next to Lena’s freshly-cleaned cards and lipstick. She washes her hands five times over afterwards.

“Okay,” Kara exhales. She sets her hands on her hips and looks over the triage area with satisfaction. “Time to put you to bed, Lena.”

Lena stirs at the sound of her name. “Hhgh?”

“Hi,” Kara says, kneeling down to Lena’s eye level. Her eyes can only open a fraction. The light falls on Lena’s mascara-laden eyelashes in the prettiest way.

“I think it’s time for bed, Lena,” Kara says.

“Okay,” Lena says softly. “Kara, I need to pee.”

“Okay,” Kara says, stifling her urge to chuckle. “I’ll help you up.” She takes Lena by the hands and helps the drunk woman stumble to her feet. 

“We’re going to need to get you out of this,” Kara says, pulling on the hem of Lena’s tight dress. “Are you okay if I take it off?”

“S-sure …” Lena slurs.

Kara’s face flushes as she grabs a hold of Lena’s zipper. The motion starts out slow and delicate, and Kara can feel her entire body pulse under the tension between them. She gets the zipper down about halfway before it stops moving. She gives it an impatient yank. It doesn’t budge — not even after two, three, four yanks.

“Didn’t realize _Kara Danvers_ has trouble getting a girl out of her dress,” Lena teases. “ _Performance issues_ , Danvers?”

Kara wants to roll her eyes. As if. “Never,” she gives a low whisper in Lena’s ear.

Lena rolls her shoulders back.

“The zipper is jammed,” Kara grunts. “I can’t get it off.”

Lena giggles at Kara’s misfortune.

“Lena …” Kara says, eying the zipper with malice. “Are you okay if I rip this dress off of you? I know it’s probably designer, but you kind of got throw-up on it anyways …”

“Go for it, Danvers,” Lena drawls, “But only if you fuck me after,” Lena attempts a sexy wink, but it just results in her eyes closing again.

“Uh, absolutely not — you’re _way_ too drunk. And that’s against the rules, actually,” Kara says humorously.

Lena turns her head to give a wicked pout.

Kara wraps her fingers firmly inside the fabric of Lena’s half-open dress, takes a sharp inhale, and rips the fabric apart in one strong motion. Lena stumbles backwards into Kara from the force, and Kara catches her hips to re-stabilize her.

“Woah,” Lena says, rendered breathless. Her cheeks are instantly flushed, and Kara would guess that’s not the only region that just received a rush of blood. _Lena more than liked that_ , Kara files the interaction away in her brain. Maybe she’ll get to rip another one of Lena’s dresses off her sometime — under better circumstances, of course.

Kara slides the dress down Lena’s torso and legs, using her foot to hold the material down as she guides Lena to step out of it. Without further ceremony, Lena removes her final remaining layer — a lace number — then plops down onto the toilet seat with a force that Kara suspects she’ll feel tomorrow.

“Where can I find you some clothes?” Kara asks, staring very intentionally at Lena’s face and only Lena’s face.

“Closet,” Lena points through the bathroom wall.

Kara quickly removes herself to give Lena privacy. Unsurprisingly, Lena has a walk-in closet full of clothes. There are dresses and gowns in every color imaginable, and racks of stylish pantsuits, blouses, and coats. Handbags sit on pedestals. Shelves full of shoes line an entire wall on their own. There’s even a small couch and an ottoman in the middle of the room. _So this is why Lena always looks so perfect_ , Kara gawks.

Kara catches a brief glance of herself in one of the many mirrors. She looks tired, but there’s a spirited light in her eyes. She’s in her element; she’s protecting and helping people who need her. Tonight, it’s Lena.

Kara starts looking through the drawers. She finds the jewelry first, then Lena’s underwear — some of the lingerie looks very familiar — until she finally finds a drawer with t-shirts inside. She grabs a black one with the NCU crest on it and continues to look for bottoms. The best she can find is a pair of running shorts. That’ll work.

It’s a bit of a task to re-dress Lena. The drunk woman is lurching fairly heavily and Kara has to constantly adjust her weight so she doesn’t fall over. She also tries her best to preserve Lena’s modesty; Kara makes eye contact with the wall the entire time, and doesn’t unsnap Lena’s bra (with one hand, because she can) until after she’s covered by the shirt. It’s a struggle but eventually Lena is clothed again.

“Can you walk to the bed?” Kara asks.

“Yes,” Lena mumbles. She lets out a deep yawn as she starts to stumble into the next room. The king-size bed makes for a large target, which works in her favor. Kara spends a few minutes cleaning up in Lena’s wake. She straightens out the bathmat, drapes Lena’s discarded clothes on one of the empty towel racks, and refills Lena’s water. By the time she’s done, Lena’s gotten herself fully in the bed and halfway under the sheets.

Kara sets the water on the nightstand. After a moment of thought, she moves the book nearby off it in case Lena knocks the water over. It’s some small brick about nanomaterials.

“Lena?” Kara asks.

There’s no reply. Kara sticks two fingers under Lena’s nose. She can feel the gentle flow of air over her skin. Good, she’s just sleeping. 

Kara quickly does the math. It’s almost four o’clock in the morning now, and they left the club around one. It had been three hours since Lena’s last drink, so her blood-alcohol content had already peaked. It would be alright to let her sleep the rest off.

Kara re-adjusts Lena onto her side and puts a pillow behind her so she can’t roll onto her back. She then pulls up the sheets so that Lena is fully covered and snug.

“There we go,” Kara says to herself. Exhausted, she takes several steps back to sit on the floor with her back against the wall. The silence of the apartment feels so uncertain now. Kara’s mission has been completed. What next?

“Well, Luthor, you’ve got me in a tough spot here,” Kara says. She’s not expecting Lena to respond or anything. She just needs to talk out her next move, even if it’s just with herself.

“Part of me feels like I should leave, with our rules and all,” Kara says, “But part of me feels like I should stay and make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m also super tired and don’t really want to walk home at four in the morning,” Kara admits. “What do you think I should do?”

It’s quiet for several minutes while Kara contemplates her choices. She still hasn’t decided fully, but she gets up to turn off the lights anyways. No reason to waste the power.

“Stay,” Lena murmurs, quieter than a whisper.

Kara stops in her tracks and turns around. “What?”

“You can stay,” Lena says. Her eyes are still closed and she hasn’t moved at all. Kara’s not sure if she’s dreaming or lucid or something in-between.

“Okay,” Kara smiles softly at Lena’s sleeping form. She elects to sleep on the couch; she’ll be close enough to hear if Lena needs anything but it’s not so intimate as sleeping in the same bed together.

Kara strips off the remainder of her suit until she’s left in nothing but her boxers and racerback. She neatly hangs her clothes on the backs of Lena’s dining room chairs before washing up in the hallway bathroom. Kara vaguely wonders if Lena ever uses her table. It’s comically large and a near impossible task to picture Lena inviting over enough people to fill it. Personal space is clearly important to the introvert.

Kara then settles into the plush leather couch and pulls the one knit throw blanket she could find over her. It’s almost four in the morning and she can feel that sleep is near. She drifts off quickly, her last conscious thoughts spent wondering why Lena doesn’t have any pictures in her apartment.

* * *

Lena wakes up with an axe in her skull.

Not literally, but there might as well have actually been one.

“Fuck …” she trails off, clutching her head. She sits up against the headboard, hoping it will alleviate some of the pressure. It doesn’t. It does make her aware of the aching in her stomach; like she swallowed a painful cocktail of stones and glass. She shifts under the covers only to feel friction against the silk.

Lena pulls in confusion at the clothes on her body. She doesn’t sleep with clothes on — certainly not in some free NCU t-shirt and a pair of gym shorts. Come to think of it, she doesn’t remember even putting these on. What is happening?

There’s the smell of coffee coming from the kitchen and it’s enough to seduce Lena to her feet. Maybe she’ll be able to function with some caffeine in her system. She slowly stumbles across the bedroom, feeling as if she had been hit by a bus last night.

It’s been awhile, but Lena’s now positive this is a hangover.

Sunlight is streaming in through the windows of her penthouse and Lena has to squint heavily to see into the living room. Over by the window stands an all-too-familiar figure, looking out over the city skyline. Beams of light filter in all around her. It’s almost too bright to look at, but Lena needs the confirmation.

“Kara?” Lena asks. Her voice is hoarse and her throat burns for some reason.

“Oh good, you’re awake!” Kara smiles, stepping closer. “How are you feeling?”

Why the fuck is Kara Danvers in her apartment at ten (wait, ten?!) in the morning? And why is she still wearing her button-up and pants from last night?

“You spent the night.” It’s an accusatory statement, and Lena’s brows lift as if daring Kara to explain. “And close the curtains, please.” Kara obliges.

“Yeah,” Kara chuckles nervously. Her expression is somewhere between wary and amused. “So, uh, what do you remember from last night?”

Lena pulls on her memory, expecting to be able to answer the question. But she can’t. Her brain feels like absolute mush. Everything is dark and clouded. She remembers the club, meeting Clark, Lex and Eve, Kara and Diana dancing, her jealousy and insecurity, several glasses of scotch, and —

Oh, fuck. She didn’t …

“I remember … getting into the car with you,” Lena says slowly, brows furrowed deeper than ever before. “I remember … my bag …”

Lena’s eyes go wide in realization and she swallows hard. “Oh my god.”

“Yeah,” Kara grimaces, “You kind of blacked-out.”

Lena’s lips move up and down but no words come out. It’s as if her voice has died on the spot. She moves a hand up to her mouth to cover it.

“What else did I do?” she croaks out.

“Well … you kind of threw up in the ride-share. In your bag. It looked expensive, I’m sorry,” Kara says.

“It’s fine,” Lena says weakly. She’s praying to any and every higher power that it doesn’t get worse.

“And your phone and your wallet were inside too,” Kara informs her. “I tried to clean off your phone, but I can’t get it to work or charge. Your bag and your wallet were both pretty much destroyed too.”

“It’s fine, I’ll order replacements today,” Lena says automatically. She wonders what Kara has to be thinking, as Lena just casually mentions replacing over $10,000 worth of items without so much as batting an eye. But Lena has bigger concerns to dwell on than her cliché embodiment of her rich girl status. Namely, her pure horror over the previous night.

“But the cards inside cleaned up fine,” Kara adds. “So that’s good!”

“Anything else?” Lena’s afraid to ask, but she needs to know.

“Well,” Kara’s voice rises an octave and Lena’s blood runs cold. “You also threw up on your dress, a little. And the zipper got stuck. So I asked you if I could rip it off. You said yes, so I did … and you, uh, _really liked_ that.”

Lena feels her spirit leave her body. She’s ready; ready to join her ancestors, ready to sink into the damp ground, never to be seen again.

“Please tell me we didn’t sleep together.” There’s a fuzzy memory of cold porcelain on her arms and Lena’s almost certain she prepositioned Kara last night.

“Oh, god, no,” Kara quickly assures her. “You were way too drunk, I would never.”

Lena exhales in relief. “Good. Is that everything?”

“Pretty much,” Kara says, and Lena hopes that’s true. “I’m sorry for staying the night, I know it’s against our rules. It didn’t seem right to leave you like that though.”

“It’s … alright,” Lena forces the words out. She’s ten times more upset at herself for her actions than anything Kara did.

“Kara, I am truly mortified,” Lena says. She can’t meet Kara’s eyes anymore, so she starts to stare at the floor and roll her tongue around the inside of her mouth.

“It’s okay,” Kara says good-naturedly. “I had plenty of practice with Alex before she stopped drinking.” Kara’s face drops into a look of pure panic. “Shit! I shouldn’t have said that.”

“I won’t repeat anything,” Lena promises. Truly, she won’t. Everyone has their own demons and Lena’s not one to involve herself in the darker affairs of others.

“Thank you,” Kara breathes a sigh of relief.

Lena’s eyes flicker down to the bright blue bottle in Kara’s hand. “What is that monstrosity?”

“Drink this, you’ll feel better after,” Kara says, handing it over to her. It’s a pint of some electrolyte drink.

Lena inspects the label as she slowly unscrews the cap. “Isn’t this made for babies?”

“Technically,” Kara shifts on her feet. “But it really does work! If I know I’m going to go hard one night, I always use this. There’s a whole strategy: drink a third before I start, a third when I get home, and a third the next morning.”

“Interesting,” Lena says, sniffing at the neck of the bottle. It smells like artificial blueberry flavoring, which makes sense since the liquid is bright blue.

“I haven’t had a hangover since freshman year,” Kara adds, and it makes Lena reconsider the drink in her hand. Her head throbs painfully and she relents. The taste is a bit salty but the fruit flavor is not unpleasant.

“That’s … not bad, actually,” Lena admits.

“See?” Kara smiles. “There’s also black coffee, scrambled eggs, and plain toast on the kitchen counter for you.”

The blonde’s smile is so genuine and caring, Lena feels absolutely paralyzed in its path. The consideration behind the gesture causes her physical pain. Who does Kara Danvers think she is?

“Kara, _why_ did you do all of this …?” Lena’s voice is practically dripping with an odd combination of awe and self-hatred.

“I … I don’t know,” Kara frowns for a second before shrugging, “It just seemed like the right thing to do.” She gives Lena a look that she hasn’t seen since Sam and part of Lena wants to run. The other part of her wants to lay down and sleep for another two days, until she no longer feels like a walking corpse.

Lena is silent as her eyes comb over her apartment. There’s a cup of coffee and a cardboard box of food on the counter, just as Kara said. Judging from the takeout packaging, she had gone to the café two blocks away — it’s rather expensive (Lena makes a note to pay Kara back somehow) but the coffee is divine. Kara’s suit coat is folded over one of her dining table chairs. Everything else in the apartment seems intact; Kara must’ve run damage control.

“Well,” Kara picks up her suit jacket and tosses it on. “You’re alive again so I should probably head out.”

“Yeah,” Lena agrees idly. Her mind is too busy racing over itself, trying to search for any intact memories of late last night.

“I’ll see you around, Luthor,” Kara says playfully. “Welcome back to the realm of the living.”

“Kara?” Lena calls after her, the other woman already halfway out the door.

“Yeah?” Kara pops back into view.

“Thank you …” Lena can’t convey her gratitude enough. She hopes Kara can feel it in her words. “Truly.”

“Anytime, Lena,” Kara leaves her with one last smile.

Overwhelmed by the recount of last night, Lena plops down on her couch. There’s a blanket folded over the arm, instead of the back, and Lena realizes this must be where Kara slept. Not the bed. _Interesting_ , Lena thinks, _and a bit relieving_.

Lena checks her phone once she works up the strength to stand again. Sure enough, it’s a glorified paperweight at this point. She switches the SIM card over to an old phone buried in the depths of her desk drawer, and re-registers the device. It’s an older model but it’ll work for now. To her relief, the phone logo shines out from the dark glass. Lena could cry — from relief or dread, she’s not sure.

There are five missed calls and two voicemails from Lex. She sighs. Looks like it’s out of the frying pan and into the fire.

But first — her coffee.


	4. watch me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lena gives Kara a thank-you gift, and Kara gives Lena something she's never had before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy everyone! Looks like things are shaping up such that this fic will be even longer.
> 
> Warnings: In this chapter, 'queer' is used once by an LGBT+ character as a blanket term with a positive/neutral connotation. I know that can be a divisive topic, so just a heads-up. Also, there's brief mention of a parent being mildly unsupportive about their child's sexuality. And some mention of addiction and substance abuse.

* * *

Kara Danvers loves texting. 

She can constantly share whatever exciting thing has come up during her day. Between coordinating basketball team logistics, sharing newly discovered songs, and ranting about the latest episode of her current-favorite TV show, there’s so much to discuss. And she can add in emojis and pictures when words just aren’t enough.

Sure, Alex could probably do without the constant stream of memes, but she humors Kara. Kara also has a lively groupchat with Alex, Lucy, Maggie, M’gann, and Nia — as well as a second one with their entire basketball team — that keeps her phone constantly alight. And then there’s Mike, who will exchange new workout ideas and basketball analytics with her all day, regardless of if he’s in class or not.

She loves feeling connected.

Lena Luthor doesn’t do casual text conversations.

She doesn’t have the patience for it. It’s an arduous form of communication, typing out some eloquent message and triple-checking it before sending it off. There’s a complex science to getting her point across appropriately and Lena has better things to devote her time and brain cells to.

Sure, Jack harasses her by text constantly, but she’s so used to his constant, one-sided communication that it doesn’t even count anymore. Lena will message Andrea occasionally to meet up, but their dynamic best lends itself to in-person interaction. And then there’s Lex, who will call once in a blue moon, but after their last conversation, Lena doesn’t expect to hear from him any time soon.

She’s never been one to need to feel constantly connected.

Yet here she is, her phone lit by a notification from a certain Kara Danvers, and Lena’s already got her thumb hovering over the keyboard to respond. It’s four nights in a row of this nonsense.

It had started out with Kara just checking in on her the Sunday after Lex’s party. She had caught Lena right when the latter had finished a rather infuriating phone call with her brother, and Lena welcomed the distraction.

_**K:** how are you feeling? _

_Better, actually. Your drink helped._

_**K:** i know my stuff ;) _

_I hope the couch wasn’t too uncomfortable for you._

_**K:** hey, a couch is a couch. I can sleep anywhere :) _

Lena had meant for that to be the end of it. Then, that night, Jack had shown up at her doorstep to regale her with a full recount of his weekend with William. Lena would’ve kicked him out, but he had brought dinner — Lena’s favorite gourmet salad — from one of the best restaurants in National City. And her stomach rumbled that it was now willing to accept food again. So he had been allowed to stay.

Jack had been so lovesick and sappy it practically made Lena nauseous. She had no patience for such blind, unrealistic, hormone-driven rubbish. But she loved Jack, and was happy for him, so she suffered through. Even so, after about an hour straight of his gushing, she had needed a palate cleanser. So — after a bit of consternation — she texts Kara.

_Finally able to eat food again._

_**K:** ouch! It’s like 24 hours later … i can barely go 4 hours without food _

_Seriously? Do you have some sort of superhuman metabolism?_

_**K:** so i’ve been told! it has it’s perks. you’re talking to the Danvers’ family pie-eating champ: _

Below the message is a photo of Kara at a wooden table posing proudly with a large, empty pie pan. She looks way younger, with braces — middle-school age maybe — and there’s holiday lights in the background. There’s chocolate smeared on her chin and the tip of her nose. It’s almost painfully endearing, and Lena—

“—What are you smiling at?” Jack’s voice cuts through her thoughts.

Lena’s head whips up to attention. “Who?”

“You,” Jack looks at her with suspicion. “Who are you texting?”

“No one,” Lena drops her amused expression immediately. “Just looking at some photos.”

“Photos, my ass,” Jack squints. “You haven’t posted anything on social media since, like, last year.” (It’s true — Lena hasn’t posted anything since right after the break up with Sam. But that’s the last thing on her mind right now.)

Lena tries to look as unimpressed as possible. “They’re old photos, Jack.”

Jack seems skeptical but is forced to relent without further cause. Once his eyes are back on his laptop, Lena sends another message to Kara. Just one more. She wouldn’t want the other woman to think she was ignoring or ghosting her. Not after she had been so kind to Lena. It had been less than twenty-four hours ago, yet Lena felt as if ages had passed since last night.

_You can’t text me anymore, you’re going to get me in trouble with Jack_

A series of notifications pop up across the top of her phone, this time directed to her social media account.

_**Direct Message** from kdanvers: is this better? I could pretend to be some random scammer online if that helps _

_**Direct Message** from kdanvers: ‘my name is princess kara of krypton. my nation has remained hidden, until now so we can share our wealth with the world. please, send your bank account information and i will wire you money, since you are so beautiful …’ _

_**Direct Message** from kdanvers: or would a pyramid scheme be better? _

Lena hides her mouth with her fingers so that Jack can’t see the inevitable upwards twisting of the corners of her lips. Kara Danvers is a bit of a dork.

_A noble attempt, Danvers, but it’s not going to work._

_**K:** it was worth a shot … speaking of shots, i think the next round is on you. Al’s, this Saturday? _

_Please no, I still can’t even think about alcohol without feeling nauseous. I’ll find another way to make it up to you._

_**K:** i do love food too … _

_We’ll see._

Inspired by the idea of a gift for Kara — simply in gratitude for her actions the previous night — Lena pulls up another tab in her internet browser and begins to look for a suitable option.

It turns out Kara is a difficult person to shop for. The search makes Lena realize how little she actually knows about the woman. Of course, that’s how they wanted it, right? If they didn’t know anything about each other, then that would mean no one could catch feelings.

A devilish voice in the back of Lena’s head points out that she does, in fact, know some things about Kara Danvers. _She’s gorgeous._ _Her body looks carved from the heavens. She’s amazing in bed. She’s got the confidence — or the cockiness, Lena’s not decided yet — to match. She tastes like sugar-laden cocktails and cheap beer on Saturday nights._

_She has a sister, Alex, and a cousin, Clark (What had Kara called him? Kal?). She plays basketball and will probably go pro. She’s actually got a good working understanding of science. She’s considerate, patient, chivalrous, and actually a bit of a dork at times. And she wears a golden necklace that she never takes off, ever — a crest emblazoned with a golden S. _

_And she’s broken not one — but two — of Lena’s rules, now. But for some reason, Lena’s not upset about it right now. For a night that was terrible on so many accounts, Lena finds herself feeling almost … fulfilled, in the aftermath. _

The summary is no help for narrowing down a gift idea. A necklace is out of the question. Stuck with no other ideas, Lena decides to set it aside for the night and try again tomorrow.

The next day, Lena feels bold. She texts Kara — unsolicited and out of the blue — asking what her favorite color is.

_What is your favorite color?_

_**K:** red or blue, i can never decide _

_You can’t possibly have two favorite colors._

_**K:** why not? _

_It defeats the purpose of a ‘favorite’ color._

_**K:** well okay, what’s yours then? _

Fuck, Lena walked right into this one. After a moment of hesitation, she types out her answer.

_I tend to be partial to red._

_**K:** makes sense. you have that really nice red lipstick i like _

Blood rushes to Lena’s cheeks. Even though no one is in her apartment but her, she glances around to ensure no one sees her moment of weakness.

_So you like my red lipstick?_

_**K:** well if you want to amend the ‘no weeknights’ rule, i can show you just show much i like it … _

_Tsk tsk, Danvers. So desperate._

_**K:** that’s not a no …? _

It’s a terrible judgment call, to phrase her response in such a way that cracks open the door to a later concession — yet Lena does it anyway.

_Not tonight, Danvers._

Lena hopes that maybe Kara doesn’t notice. That she doesn’t read into it.

But Lena’s not that lucky, and the next night she gets a text that illustrates that Kara can be attentive outside the bedroom too.

_**K:** how about now? I’m coming off a big win tonight and i have energy to burn _

_That’s the only coming you’ll be doing tonight, per the rules of this arrangement._

_**K:** :( … we’ve technically already broken that rule, you know _

_More reason not to break it again._

_**K:** is your only objection because of the rules? It’s not about saturday, right? _

_No, it’s not about Saturday. Hypothetically speaking, I wouldn’t object to a certain kind of satisfaction tonight, but I have work to do and we have rules in place._

_**K:** oh really? because i can work with that _

_Don’t push your luck, Danvers._

_**K:** okay, but just know: one day, when you change your mind, i won’t say ‘i told you so’ or anything. I will just show up and do my job _

_‘When?’ You’re really so cocky as to think you can get a Luthor to change her mind?_

_**K:** watch me ;) _

That gives Lena an idea.

The idea is cemented the next day, when Kara sends her a photo of a cheap digital watch shattered and crushed into her forearm. There’s light discoloration to one side of it, and a few tiny scratches. The photo makes Lena’s stomach give an anxious twist.

_What happened?_

Lena doesn’t set her phone down until she gets a response.

_**K:** broke it during lifts this morning. Alex was benching and her dumbbell came apart while i was spotting her. thankfully it wasn’t the end over her face lol_

Lena’s only half-sure what that all means, but it’s inconsequential.

_That looks painful._

_**K:** it’s all good, i’ve had way worse _

_**K:** and don’t worry, my fingers still work fine ;) _

Lena rolls her eyes so hard she would be surprised if Kara didn’t feel the cosmic disturbance. The only response she can think of is something she once heard Lillian say during some miserable business dinner, and the irony makes her smile in delight.

_Oh good, it’s so hard to find good help these days._

_**K:** is that all I am to you, Luthor? _

Lena’s immediate instinct is to type a succinct _‘Yes.’_ , but the word doesn’t look right and she deletes it right away. She tries a few more options that don’t sound right either. In a huff of surrender, she decides something milquetoast yet mildly warm will suffice.

_You’re a … friendly acquaintance_

_**K:** i can handle that :) _

Lena’s head is buried in a book the rest of the week. Kara tries to continue their pattern of casual texting conversations, but Lena just levels with her that she’s got two exams on Friday and can’t spare any time for distractions. Kara respects it and backs off, but not before wishing her luck, and agrees to resume communication Saturday as usual.

The delivery notification for Kara’s gift shows up in Lena’s inbox the hour before her first exam starts. She credits the spike in her heart rate as pre-exam jitters, even though Lena Luthor could recite the foundational science behind wound repair in her sleep.

She’s halfway through the exam when her mind starts to wander back to the delivery notification. Lena wonders when Kara will discover the package. Did she already get it? What does she think of it? Was it too much?

The gift is an analog watch. It’s meaningful but not romantic. Substantial yet insignificant. Half an apology and half a token of gratitude.

The watch is mostly black, but with gold accents to match with Kara’s necklace. Inscribed on the back is the phrase: _Kara Danvers, you are my hero._ Lena had gotten it engraved out of impulse. She had regretted it not even five minutes after the purchase went through — but it had been too late. And a part of her stuck by her moment of sentiment; no one had treated Lena like Kara had done. Kara had owed her nothing, yet showed her kindness at every turn that weekend. 

She had been vulnerable and Kara had protected her. Cared for her. Like her own little hero. 

A strange warmth spreads down Lena’s body.

“Thirty minute warning,” the exam proctor warns. The noise jolts Lena’s attention away from such foolish reflections and back on the task at hand.

She has more important things to do than think about Kara Danvers in her daylight hours.

* * *

Jack drags Lena out to Al’s on Saturday. It’s more packed than usual. Apparently, it’s casino night. They’re offering a few free poker chips to every patron, which has drummed up quite a bit of business.

There are a few make-shift poker tables, another table for blackjack, and a bunch of small brightly-illuminated slot machines have been placed around the building. Al is beaming out over his kingdom, proudly admiring his handiwork. The bartenders are all wearing vests and ties, and Jack is mocking William relentlessly as he fiddles with the other man’s bowtie. 

Lena fetches herself a drink in the meanwhile. She debates ordering her usual scotch, but the idea still makes her a little nauseous (Kara was right). Instead, she orders a gin and soda. Jack finds her right after she gets her glass.

“Up for a game of poker?” Jack asks, a devious smile on his face. “Don’t worry, I’ll take it easy on you.”

“Oh, that’s cute,” Lena patronizes, heading over to the table with Jack. All Luthors are incredible liars, which makes a poker table Lena’s personal runway. She can even give Lex a run for his money, literally. Last time he dragged her out to a casino, she had left him practically destitute after a few calculated moves. That had been a good night.

The dealer begins to shuffle the deck right after they sit down. Lena wins the first game with a straight flush. After about another hour of playing, she succeeds at emptying Jack’s pockets, along with all the table’s other victims.

“Lena, seriously?” Jack protests. “You’re going to be like that?”

Lena chuckles and rolls her eyes. “You challenged me, Jack. Here, take some chips and get another drink. Your boytoy keeps staring at you anyways; go keep him company.”

Jack accepts the chips in Lena’s palm gleefully, scurrying off across the bar. Tired of poker, Lena quickly collects her winnings and shifts over to the half-full blackjack table. The empty seat next to Lena is filled immediately, and she looks up to see the exact face she was hoping for.

“Luthor,” Kara grins at her. She's clad in a sherpa-lined jean jacket, black jeans, and a soft-looking t-shirt. Lena makes a note to see later just how soft it is. Her hair cascades down her shoulders like any other Saturday night. Lena wants to run her fingers through it.

“Danvers,” Lena returns the smile. She’s put on her signature firetruck-red lipstick tonight. It may or may not have been for Kara’s benefit. Her whole look tonight is really for Kara’s benefit; a sleek black leather jacket, a dangerously low-cut top, and a pair of sinfully tight pants.

Kara’s eyes rake over her from head to toe. “You look amazing, Lena.”

“You’re not so bad yourself, Danvers,” Lena says. She looks to take a swig of her drink to hide her blush, but it’s useless. Her glass has been empty for awhile now.

“Allow me,” Kara says, setting down a cup in front of Lena. Inside is a bright green liquid — almost fluorescent — with a darker green color settled on the bottom.

“What _is_ this?” Lena asks. “Is it radioactive?”

Kara chuckles. “It’s a melon sour. Try it.”

Lena gives Kara a very wary look. Kara holds up her own cup; it’s the same liquid but there’s much less of it.

“Fine,” Lena says. She steels herself with a sharp inhale and takes a sip.

Oh, that’s not bad, actually. The flavor screams artificial citrus and sugar. It’s a little on the sweet side for her, but the sour balances it out just enough to still be palatable.

Kara’s looking at her eagerly, awaiting Lena’s response. Noticing she has a bit too much of the blonde’s attention, Lena decides to play with her a bit. The tip of her tongue darts out to lick the residual liquid off her lips, painfully slowly. There’s a noticeable gulp in Kara’s throat.

“So,” Kara croaks, clearing her throat. “How does this game work?”

Lena gives her an incredulous look. “You just sat down at a blackjack table without knowing how to play?”

“Yup,” Kara confirms. “Alex and I watched a movie about it once, but I didn’t really pay attention. I was, uh …” Kara trails off.

“Too busy flirting with your ride of the night?” Lena fills in the rest. “Well, prepare to lose all your money, Danvers.” She gives Kara a pointed look.

“Oh, that ship sailed about an hour ago over by the slot machine,” Kara tells her. “Turns out I’m bad at all forms of gambling.”

Lena can’t help but chuckle. “I can’t say I’m surprised.”

“Hey!” Kara protests. “That was out of pocket! Just help me out, go easy on me.”

“Never,” Lena winks. “I think you like it rough.” Kara’s face turns bright red in a matter of seconds.

“I’ll remember that, Luthor,” Kara hints at some vague retaliation that makes Lena’s toes curl in anticipation. The blonde then starts to roll up her jacket sleeves as cards begin to fly through the dealer’s hands.

Then Lena sees it.

Wrapped around Kara’s wrist, glittering in the dim lighting of the bar, is a black and gold watch. 

Lena’s gift.

Lena feels her heart rate accelerate to Mach 5. _Kara’s wearing it._ It looks better on her wrist than Lena could’ve imagined. The gold accents match perfectly with her signature necklace. The black draws attention to the dense cords of muscle that run down Kara’s forearms. The bruises from the lifting accident have faded to a faint purple. Lena gulps slightly at the sight.

Lena waits patiently for Kara to mention it. Truthfully, this is new territory for her. She’s always been a gift-giver, but this situation is a bit more complicated than Jack or Andrea. There’s not a standard for a former-enemy-turned-tolerable-and-actually-really-sweet-fuck-buddy. Lena doesn’t have a rule of engagement for this. And there’s sure as hell not a card for it.

But Kara doesn’t mention it.

Lena does well in the first game. It’s clear to her that Kara truly has no idea how to play; she only flips over her cards at the dealer’s prompting, and either hits or stands depending on what Lena does.

“I’m confused,” Kara whispers, peeking over at Lena’s cards. “Aces are worth one, right?”

“Aces are worth either one or eleven,” Lena explains, not taking her eyes off the game. “Whatever gives you the better hand.”

“And I want to get my cards to add up to less than twenty one?” Kara asks.

“There’s hope for you yet,” Lena says, flipping over a winning hand.

“How are you so good at this?” Kara asks.

“Well, it’s simple probability,” Lena explains. “There are only so many permutations of cards in the deck.” (Lena declines to admit in front of the dealer that she’s also counting the cards. The superior Luthor intellect comes in handy during many situations.)

“Huh,” Kara remarks, her brow crinkled. Her small frown is adorable and Lena wants to kiss it off — that has to be the melon sour talking.

Lena collects her winning chips, feeding Kara a few so she can keep playing. Lena notches a few more victories before the unthinkable happens — she loses it all on the next game. 

She blames the loss on Kara. The blonde had set her arm idly across the back of Lena’s chair, and Lena’s brain short-circuited after that, completely ruining her count. All she could focus on was how upright the hairs on the back of her neck were, and the oppressive heat between their bodies.

“Ouch, better luck next time, Luthor,” Kara teases. “Looks like we’re both losers tonight.”

“Speak for yourself, Danvers,” Lena replies. “I’m not heading home empty handed.” She stands up slowly and bends over the back of Kara’s chair to whisper in her ear. “You’re coming with me, after all.”

Kara bolts to her feet so quickly the chair screeches against the floor. “Now?” she looks at Lena with hungry eyes.

“If you feel so inclined.”

Lena looks behind Kara, searching for a glimpse of her friends. They’re usually never far behind the blonde, and Lena would appreciate having a discrete exit. She can see Alex, Lucy Lane, and that Sawyer girl from Kara’s social media page all squashed together in front of a slot machine. Meanwhile James, Winn, and Mike, and an unfamiliar woman are engaged in an intense game of pool. They all appear to be sufficiently distracted.

“Ready?” Kara asks, holding a low hand out to Lena. The raven-haired woman subtly takes it.

They decide to walk home. It’s a rare night where Lena’s actually dressed for the weather, even if she’s still wearing heels. The melon sours keep their blood sufficiently warm and Lena feels bold with Kara’s hand wrapped with hers.

“So how much money did you lose tonight?” Lena asks.

“Eh, enough,” Kara waves her hand vaguely. “I spent more on drinks than the games though.”

“Oh, really?” Lena cocks an eyebrow. 

“That was the only game I played, really,” Kara admits. “I was at the slots for a little bit but I wasn’t having any luck so I decided to quit before I dug too deep of a hole.”

“A novel concept. Do you have any vices, Danvers?” Lena asks. “It doesn’t appear to be alcohol, or gambling …”

Kara chuckles modestly. “I like drinking, but not being drunk. Gambling just makes me feel bad, unless there’s a pretty girl to embarrass myself in front of. I prefer things where I can have a say in the outcome.”

“Like sports?” Lena guesses.

“Like basketball,” Kara confirms. “I have a chance to affect the outcome. It’s all about skill; you _earn_ the win.”

“I don’t think basketball can be a vice,” Lena objects. _Though_ , she must admit, _Kara’s sentiment makes sense._

Kara lets out a morbid laugh. “Tell that to my exes.”

Lena really, really wants to pursue that particular thread further but she scolds herself at her eagerness. Fuck buddies don’t care about exes. So Lena doesn’t let the conversation or her mind linger any longer.

“So truly no vices for the great _Kara Danvers?”_ Lena asks. She winks to restore the playful mood.

“Well,” Kara blushes. “If you forced me to say one … then probably women.”

“Now that doesn’t shock me,” Lena teases. “I had a feeling. You did keep coming back to my bed like a desperate puppy.”

“Oh no,” Kara protests, stopping to a halt. She turns to Lena as her free hand grips the woman’s waist, slowly backing her up against the brick wall to their side. “I distinctly remember you being the one begging me for more, Luthor.”

“Don’t push your luck, Danvers,” Lena breathes onto Kara’s lips. “Your memory seems to be failing you tonight.”

“Maybe I can jog yours for you, then,” Kara says, taking Lena’s upper lip between her own. The kiss is fiery and passionate and a bit spiteful. Lena loves it. It reminds her of their very first night doing this — back when they were just foreign enemies. Adrenaline surges through her veins like a drug. She’ll have to make a point of faux-pissing-off Kara like this more often.

They begin to make out on the sidewalk, each vying to control the pace. Kara brings a hand up to cup her neck, thumb stroking the sharp edge of her jaw. Lena pushes back against Kara’s weight on her chest, forcing the blonde to compensate. It allows Lena the advantage to break their lips apart and shift to Kara’s neck. She sucks at the skin, biting a small piece between her teeth. One hand grips her soft t-shirt and the other hand slips inside Kara’s belt-clad waistband.

“Lena,” Kara growls. “Let’s go. Your place. Now.” The dampness between Lena’s thighs is noticeable in an instant.

They walk very fast after that.

As soon as they make it into Lena’s apartment, Kara is a woman with a singular focus — getting into Lena’s pants. Not that Lena minds. Teasing Kara is only fun when there’s a payout.

And boy is there.

Lena starts stripping Kara instantly. She wants — she needs — to feel Kara’s warm skin against hers, her hard edges contrasting beautifully against Lena’s soft places.

“This top is absolutely sinful, you know,” Kara tells her, pulling at Lena’s low neckline.

“I’m aware,” Lena gives her a wicked grin.

“Of course you are,” Kara scoffs playfully as she yanks Lena’s jacket off. The shirt is next to follow. “I couldn’t stop looking at you all night. How hot, how gorgeous you look. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed the view,” Lena speaks into her lips.

“So much,” Kara says. Their pants are discarded in the doorway of Lena’s bedroom, their undergarments right behind. “But you look even better naked.”

Thankfully, Lena’s calves hit the bedside right as Kara’s words make her weak in the knees. She crashes back against the cloud-like mattress, Kara on top of her in an instant. The blonde looks ready to devour Lena.

And does she ever.

Lena finds her first release within minutes, Kara’s face eagerly lapping at her pussy. She does something with her tongue that steals Lena’s breath away. The second orgasm takes longer and involves Kara’s joyously long fingers.

“Another,” Lena begs.

“Four?” Kara asks with surprise. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Lena begs. She’s never begged before — not even with Sam — yet the words fall from her lips unhindered. She feels … safe with Kara. And her weakness sets in.

Kara obliges her without another word. Lena’s third orgasm is found easily enough. Clearly, their previous weekend of abstinence has left some things bottled up in the tank.

“Kara,” she manages to gasp. “My turn. I … I want to try something.”

“Okay,” Kara presses a gentle kiss to her lips. “What do you need me to do?”

“O-on your back,” Lena stutters at first, but quickly regains command of her nerves and her words. “Spread your legs.”

“Okay,” Kara breathes. She does as Lena asks immediately. Lena then shifts down to lay on her stomach between Kara’s muscular legs. She looks curiously at the apex of Kara’s thighs; she wants those lips against her mouth desperately, but she’s nervous. It’s been awhile. And she’s only done this a few times before, with Sam, as their sex life had admittedly been a bit sparse.

“Lena, you don’t have to if you don’t wa—” That’s all Lena needs.

Kara’s voice halts and her eyes go wide. “Oh my god, Lena.”

Lena can feel Kara start to unravel under her mouth. She takes her time exploring, learning what the blonde seems to like. It’s a _very_ fun time.

“Don’t stop, please,” Kara begs. Now that’s something Lena could get used to. She feels Kara’s whole body tense underneath her as she comes, desperately clutching at the bedsheets.

“Fuck, I haven’t come that hard in a while,” Kara pants, grinning in between deep breaths. “You were amazing.”

“You weren’t so bad yourself,” Lena says, adjusting herself to lay next to Kara again. She wipes her lips and kisses the blonde.

“Did you have a good night?” Kara asks, kissing idly down Lena’s neck.

“Yes, I did,” Lena admits. The truth of her words settles in her chest like rain droplets on a windowpane — a gentle, peaceful rattle.

“Good,” Kara smiles at her. “I was a bit … distracted earlier, but now that I can think clearly again, I’d like to say thank you.”

Lena's heart jumps out of her chest. “For what?” she feigns innocence. She knows _for what_.

Kara holds up her forearm, the watch glittering in the dim warm light of Lena’s bedroom. “For this.” Two of Lena’s fingers instinctively dart out to caress Kara's small bruises.

“Oh, it’s just a paltry little thing,” Lena downplays. Out of a sense of humility or embarrassment, she’s not sure.

“No, it’s not,” Kara’s voice is firm and kind. “It’s a really nice, really thoughtful gift. And I really like it.”

Lena clears her throat, unsure of how to process such genuinity.

Kara looks up at the watch then back at Lena, chuckling to herself. “You know, when you said you would make things up to me, I was kind of expecting something like donuts,” Kara says. She then gives Lena a suggestive look. “Or _something else_.”

“You’re intolerable,” Lena says, not meaning a word.

“You really didn’t have to get me anything, though, you know that right?” Kara’s brows furrow. “Don’t get me wrong, I love the watch, but I didn’t take care of you when you were blackout expecting something in return.”

“I know, Kara,” Lena soothes. “Even though my horror over the situation has faded, I am still grateful for what you did. I just saw it and thought it would look good on you.”

“Oh,” Kara blushes. “Well, thank you, Lena. I really like it.”

“I’m glad.”

Kara chuckles and sucks her lips inward. “It was kind of difficult to explain to Alex where I got such a nice watch from, though.”

“What did you say?” Lena holds her breath while she waits for Kara’s answer.

Kara gives her a bashful look. “I … told her it was a knock-off.” The blonde gives her a wary toothy smile.

Lena feigns offense. “A knock-off!? … Kara Danvers, get out of my bed this instant. A Luthor would never.”

“I didn’t know what else to say!” Kara objects. Her shoulders pull up towards her ears defensively but her smile is yet undeterred as she plays along.

“No excuses. That’s a grievous claim to make,” Lena continues. She smacks the back of her hand against Kara’s thigh. She’s felt it many times before — both under her hands and between her legs — but it’s firmness shocks her every time. “Get out. Don’t return unless you have a glass of water as an apology.”

Kara catches Lena’s true motive and slides out of bed to oblige her request. She pulls her sports bra and undershorts back on before heading to the kitchen, and Lena has to stifle her moan of disappointment. She doesn’t think she could ever get enough time to ogle Kara’s body.

Kara hands her the water glass before flopping back onto the bed and Lena is grateful the events unfold in that order, lest Kara be the reason her sheets get (further) soaked.

“So,” Kara says, watching Lena sip greedily at the drink. “Am I forgiven?”

Lena fakes hard contemplation. “I suppose … for now.”

Kara smiles down at her arm and fiddles with the watch face. “Do I even want to know how expensive this was? I feel like it belongs in a safe instead of on my arm.”

“It’s better if you don’t know,” Lena says. “But it was a gift, meant _to be worn_.”

Kara relents under her intense look. “Alright, alright, I’ll keep wearing it. Happy?”

Lena hums in acknowledgment.

“Can I have some water?” Kara asks timidly.

“Of course,” Lena hands her the glass. “Would you mind refilling it after?”

“You got it,” Kara gives her a smile so bright the room seems to grow dimmer as she leaves. Kara’s momentary absence causes Lena to scrutinize her surroundings. It’s so different from the bar — clean, light, and expensive. Lena dissociates in the contrast. 

She’s been raised in the lap of luxury almost all of her life, but there are a few brief and fuzzy memories of her life before Luthor-dom. It all feels so far away now. This — sprawling marble, golden fixtures, the latest tech — this is what feels normal now. Yet there’s a gentle approachability Lena has found in the bowels of that damned little dive bar that makes her feel a bit of a stranger in her own home. 

She wonders what Kara must think of all of this. It makes her realize she hasn’t seen that side of Kara — she doesn’t know what her bedroom looks like, or her family’s background. Is she at NCU on a scholarship — athletic, or academic even? She knows Kara has some nice things, but her canvas shoes are always scuffed and dirty (Lena makes her leave them at the door for that exact reason) and she tends to go for the cheapest drinks. And Lena’s watch was so nice that Alex immediately clocked it as out-of-place.

Lena Luthor is a Rich Bitch. What does Kara Danvers think of that?

“... Kara?” Lena asks after a moment of hesitation.

“Yeah?” Kara walks back in, glass full and concern all over her face. “What’s up?”

“Is the watch … too much?” Lena asks. She stares into Kara’s worried eyes, already scolding herself for her vulnerability and doubt. _Luthors don’t doubt._

Kara’s eyebrows soften as she walks over to Lena’s side of the bed.

“It’s perfect,” Kara assures, “More than perfect. Why do you ask?”

“I …” Lena trails off to better formulate her thoughts. “I’m a Luthor. I’m—” Lena waves her hand around the room in demonstration. “—a Rich Bitch.”

“I know who you are, Lena,” Kara says. She sets down the water on the end table and crawls back into the bed, practically smothering Lena with her weight. 

Lena knows she should protest that but she doesn’t care enough to.

“You’re Lena Luthor,” Kara recites, looking back and forth from Lena’s eyes and lips. “You might be rich, but you’re not a rich bitch.”

Lena gives a self-deprecating laugh. 

Kara flops down next to her, and Lena adjusts to rest her head on Kara’s shoulder. They both stare up at the cool white of the apartment ceiling.

“I saw you,” Kara says. “Last year. There was a homeless guy, Phil, who used to sit under that awning on Baker Ave. There was a restaurant across the street. I saw you go in there one day, and you came out with a bunch of gift cards in your hands and gave them all to him. And then you took him to the hotel down the block. You walked out, but he didn’t.”

“Were you stalking me, Danvers?” Lena tries to muster up some teasing tone but it falls flat in her surprise that someone actually noticed — and remembered in detail — the act even she had half-forgotten.

“Please,” Kara gives her a brief unimpressed glare before her face softens again. “I used to eat lunch with Phil on Thursdays last semester — until he got a job. Because of how you helped him.”

Lena remembers she hadn’t seen Phil again after that day, but life had happened and she had moved on to whatever had needed to occupy her mind next.

“You tip well at bars. You always thank people, and learn their names. You got me a wonderful gift,” Kara continues. “All I’m saying is, you might have money, but the stuff you use it for — that’s what makes you _not_ a rich bitch. You’re a good person, Lena.”

Lena is left thoroughly stunned. “I … don’t think anyone has ever said that about a Luthor before. Between my parents’ corrupt company practices and their pharmaceutical monopoly, we’re not exactly beloved by the public.”

“You are not your parents,” Kara says with such definity it shakes Lena to her core. “Would you do things differently if you were in charge?”

“Without a second thought,” Lena’s voice is thick and heavy in her throat. “I have _so_ many ideas — sustainable and ethical — but Lillian won’t even …” She trails off into silence.

“I hope you get your chance, someday,” Kara offers. “I think you could make the world a better place, Lena.”

“Thank you,” Lena utters the words like a prayer.

“For what?” Kara looks at her so tenderly that Lena’s heart threatens to give out.

“For … seeing me as more than just my name,” Lena admits.

“Of course.” Kara wraps her arm over Lena’s collarbone and gives a reassuring squeeze. She can’t remember the last time she felt this secure. “I know it’s very different, but I get what it’s like to wear a heavy name.”

Lena doesn’t pry, but she guesses Kara is referencing Clark. It must be hard to live in a superstar’s shadow. They both carry the burden of a family legacy.

A moment of sympathetic silence passes. “Lena, can I ask you a question?”

“Yes?” Lena tries to keep her voice neutral but the uncertainty of Kara’s next words already have adrenaline surging through her veins.

“It’s about Saturday.”

Lena’s heart plummets.

“You mentioned something about your brother,” Kara says tentatively, almost as if unsure how to proceed.

“Lex?”

Kara nods. “You mentioned he’s dating the girl who outed you to your mom. Is that why you had such a bad night, or are nights out with him always like that?”

Lena is silent as Kara’s question settles. “Well, that’s more than one question, really, isn’t it?”

“I-I guess so,” Kara says. The worry in her voice is clear as day, so Lena decides to indulge her. She can’t have her fuck buddy stressing herself out with the unknown.

“To answer your ‘question’, nights out with Lex usually range from chaotic to catastrophic,” Lena states. “He’s very into the party scene. I love my brother, but drunk and coked out, humping whatever new girl he has, isn’t really his best look. But unfortunately, it’s his most frequent. He was doing better there for awhile, I thought …”

“I’m sorry, Lena,” Kara says, her voice wounded in a way that makes Lena remember something the blonde mentioned in the kitchen that next morning. About her sister, Alex. But Lena still has one more question to go first.

“And for your _real_ question,” Lena continues. “Eve Teschmacher and I went to boarding school together. When I was seventeen, I realized I liked women too. I started secretly dating a girl named Taylor, Eve’s best friend at the time. Eve and I had been casual friends, but I think she became jealous of the time I spent with Taylor. So she outed me to my mother.”

“I’m sorry, Lena,” Kara says, in a pained voice that goes deeper than the cosmos. “You didn’t deserve that.”

Lena waves a hand. “It is what it is. After that, Lillian made Taylor break up with me — Lex told me like a year afterwards. Mother didn’t want me to _‘sully the family image’_ , she said.”

Kara grimaced. “Has she gotten any better?”

“Somewhat,” Lena admitted. “I think my stubbornness wore her down. It’s clear she doesn’t like it, but she tolerates it. Besides, she can use me as a token now when it suits her.”

“You are _definitely_ stubborn,” Kara laughs. “But you were just standing up for yourself there. So … things with Jack — does that mean you’re bisexual, then?”

“No,” Lena stifles a laugh, “No, I’m very gay. Jack was my last-ditch attempt at men and that, well, clearly didn’t work.” Lena gestures to the bed under them, where she and Kara had just ravaged each other.

“Oh,” Kara says. “That’s cool. I’m very bi, but I tend to prefer women.”

“Well, that’s something we can agree on,” Lena gives her an accepting smile.

“It’s my turn to ask a question,” Lena states.

“Okay,” Kara agrees.

“You mentioned your sister doesn’t drink anymore,” Lena says. Kara stiffens like a steel rod beside her. “Why not?”

“That’s … a bit complicated,” Kara frowns and sits upright. “Alex is fairly open about it, but it’s a long story. Do you mind if I get something to drink while we continue?”

“Alcohol?” Lena sits up on her forearms.

Kara shakes her head. “Coffee or tea? I could use the caffeine. It’s a bit late.”

“Certainly,” Lena agrees. “I have both. What do you prefer?”

“Tea would be good,” Kara says. “I’m going to guess you don’t have creamer or sugar?”

Lena nods. “Correct. There’s a tea kettle in the cabinet above the stove. Why don’t you get some water boiling, and I’ll meet you out there once I wash up?”

“That’s a good idea,” Kara agrees and they separate. Lena empties her melon-sour-inflated bladder, rinses off in the shower, and brushes her teeth. She pads out to the kitchen wearing a tantalizingly short silk robe and her hair up. Kara looks as if she’s washed up as well — her clothes are back on, save her thick denim jacket, and her hair is also up in a ponytail.

“Nice … robe …” Kara trails off. She grabs a handful of air instead of the kettle handle, too preoccupied with gawking at the bountiful, smooth skin of Lena’s shapely legs.

“Careful, Danvers, you’ll burn yourself,” Lena watches with amusement.

“Oh, right!” Kara snaps back to attention. “Where are your tea bags?”

“Green or black?” Lena asks, reaching into one of the cabinets.

“Green,” Kara replies, and Lena pulls down two mugs and a packet of green tea for Kara. She starts to make herself a cup of coffee, only to discover the machine is already running.

“I thought you might prefer coffee,” Kara explains. Lena stares at Kara for a moment. Unbelievable.

“Thank … you,” Lena says, taken aback by Kara’s thoughtfulness. It shouldn’t surprise her, not after their last weekend together, but yet it still does.

Kara chuckles. “Only thank me if it turns out well,” she jokes, “I haven’t used a machine that fancy before. I guessed on a lot of it.”

The coffee is decent, but Lena will have to show Kara her own perfected technique next time. _Next time_. The ease at which that thought slipped out her mind is alarming.

“I believe you were going to answer my question?” Lena mentions suddenly, eager for the distraction.

“Okay,” Kara exhales. “Can I sit on your counter?”

Lena can only imagine Lillian’s abject horror at the idea. “By all means,” Lena smiles. 

Kara hops up on the island countertop, so Lena shifts to the kitchen cabinets along the adjacent wall, leaning her butt against the edge of the stone counter. She has no desire to feel cold granite against her bare thighs.

“So I told you Alex doesn’t drink,” Kara looks to Lena for confirmation.

The raven-haired woman nods. “And that you had plenty of practice … taking care of people after they’re far gone.”

Kara looks down her mug and takes a sip of her tea. “Well, that’s more than one question, isn’t it?” Kara gives her a smug smile.

Lena just rolls her eyes and takes a sip of her own coffee.

“To answer the easy question, yes, I’ve had plenty of practice taking care of drunk people,” Kara says. “The drinking culture in college athletics is admittedly … kind of terrible. I’ve had to take care of many of my friends or teammates after they’ve gotten too drunk. It happens. I’ve been there myself a few times; freshman year — it was so easy to get caught up in it all.”

Lena nods, trying to display only neutral attention — though her heart pangs at the thought of Kara as violently unwell as she had been the past weekend.

“But Alex, Alex is a bit of a different story,” Kara continues. “Alex had a … rough time grappling with her sexuality. Her sophomore year — our freshman year — Maggie transferred to NCU and joined the team. Alex was always weirdly cold towards her; I didn’t realize why.”

“She liked Maggie?” Lena guessed.

Kara nodded. “She had a crush on Maggie and _no idea_ how to deal with it. It didn’t help that Sawyer was a hot mess at the time. Alex tends to attract and be attracted to … people with baggage. She’s got a savior complex.”

 _And you don’t, Kara Danvers?_ Lena has to literally bite her tongue to stop the words from escaping. _At least now she knows Kara didn’t sleep with Maggie Sawyer._

“They were stuck in the ‘will-they-won’t-they’ dynamic for a long time. Eventually, they ‘did’ and they both freaked out about it. Them being teammates made it even more complicated,” Kara continues. “Anyways, Alex’s self-hatred hit an all-time high, and to cope she started to get blackout-drunk every time we went out.”

Kara pauses for a second to drink some more of her tea. Lena waits patiently.

“It got … pretty bad,” Kara’s voice is softer, smaller now. “I was really worried. But once Alex told me the ‘ _why’_ , things got better. She had a one-night stand with one of my friends, got some things out of her system, came out to our mom, went to therapy, and stopped drinking completely for a while.”

“And her and Maggie?” Lena asked. She idly wonders which of Kara’s friends Alex had slept with.

“Eventually worked things out,” Kara smiled warmly. “Turns out J’onn had talked Maggie into going to therapy too — it was a completely separate thing. But it was like an emotional laxative for both Alex and Maggie and they talked things out. Gave things a try. Been together about a year and a half now.”

Lena chuckles into her coffee at the idea of an ‘emotional laxative’. What a concept. “And who is J’onn?”

“Our coach,” Kara explains. “He has a husband, Hank, so he _knows_. It’s nice to have him as a role model.”

“I see. Well, two queer children?” Lena’s voice takes on a rueful tone. “Your parents must be _thrilled_.”

“Eliza is great, actually,” Kara says softly. “She’s been nothing but warm and accepting.”

The coffee in Lena’s mouth suddenly tastes more bitter. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to—”

“—it’s okay,” Kara waves an assuring hand. “I know how lucky I am. And I’m sorry for what you’ve been through.”

“So is Alex still sober?” Lena asks. Growing up in a household filled with Lionel’s booze, Lillian’s pills, and whatever assortment of substances Lex had — it had always made Lena admire people who had the fortitude to go sober.

Kara nods and shrugs. “Weed and hard drugs, completely. Alcohol? She might have one drink, but never more than that, and only ever when she’s in a good mood. Her and Maggie had a whole six-step checklist before she can even start; it’s sweet.”

Lena’s chest feels oddly warm. “You and Alex seem very close. She is lucky to have you.”

“I’m lucky to have her too,” Kara smiles into the distance. “She’s been there with me at my worst.”

Lena truly has no idea what Kara Danvers’ _worst_ would look like. She probably doesn’t want to know.

Kara looks at Lena over the lip of her mug, curious yet respectfully silent. But Lena can guess what she’s wondering.

“Lex and I used to be close. We were inseparable as children,” Lena volunteers. “But we grew apart with time. I mean, we’re nine years apart. We live in different worlds.”

“Not for much longer. And I’m sure he still loves you,” Kara says. “Sometimes people are just bad at showing it. I hope you guys can figure it out.”

“Me too,” Lena admits with barely a whisper.

“More coffee?” Kara offers, giving Lena a soothing smile.

“No, thank you, I think I’m done for the night. Actually, excuse me,” Lena smiles politely. “I’m afraid I need to use the restroom again.” Kara nods sympathetically, no stranger to the diuretic combo of alcohol and late-night coffee. Lena strolls into her bathroom, relieves herself, and splashes some extra-cold water on her face before returning to the kitchen. 

Kara’s standing over by the sink, fully dressed and looking ready to brave the late-night chill.

“Headed out?” Lena’s brow furrows.

“Yeah, I should go,” Kara says softly. “I figured I’ve already kept you late enough. My ride-share is only a few minutes away.”

Lena begrudgingly nods.

“Mugs are clean,” Kara points to the washed mugs now drying in the dishrack. “I know how essential they are for your daily coffee intake.”

“Thank you. Whatever would I do without you here?” Lena asks with vicious sarcasm.

“Well, I _am_ your _hero_ , after all …” Kara gives her a playful look, shaking her watch-bound forearm.

“I _knew_ I would regret the engraving,” Lena brings a hand up to rub her brow.

“It’s my favorite part.” Kara smiles at her so brightly it could make the sun look dim.

“I’m … glad.”

“I’ll catch you next weekend, Lena,” Kara gives her a kiss goodbye, her hand lingering on Lena’s silk-clad hip for a moment too long. “I have a busy week of games ahead.”

“Good luck,” Lena tells Kara’s back, a humorous smirk across her face. “Have fun playing with your balls.”

“I’m not ‘playing with my balls’!” Kara protests, leaving her with a final indignant pout. "Fuck you, Luthor."

"You just did! Goodnight, Kara," Lena smiles in victory.

" 'night, Lena," comes the good-natured reply.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They're getting soft!
> 
> Also, not at all official or sanctioned advice, but for the sake of worldbuilding:
> 
> Alex and Maggie’s Six-Step Checklist Before Alex Can Have a Drink:  
> 1\. Are you in a good mood?  
> 2\. Are you hydrated, well-rested, and well-fed?  
> 3\. Is there anything stressing you out, and do you want the drink because of it?  
> 4\. What will stop you from getting a second drink?  
> 5\. Do you actually want the drink, or do you just feel like you should have one?  
> 6\. Is there a good non-alcoholic substitute?


	5. on a wednesday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara and Lena revisit the 'no-weeknights' rule.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much to everyone who has read, commented, kudo'd, bookmarked -- the whole gambit. I really do appreciate it. I'm really loving this project and I'm so excited to continue share it with you all. Enjoy!

* * *

Lena Luthor has severely underestimated how good Kara Danvers was at basketball.

It was a mistake to even turn on the game in the first place. She hadn’t even intended to, really. 

She had been on the NCU website — searching for the course catalog codes she needed to register for classes with tomorrow — and had accidentally clicked on ‘athletics’ instead of ‘academics’. Her browser had been redirected to the flashy athletics page, and a bright blue banner at the top had read ‘WATCH NOW: Women’s Basketball vs. Starling Univ.’ And she had clicked on it. 

(It’s not her fault she was a naturally curious person; a scientist through and through.)

A live video feed pops up instantly. It contains aerial footage of about half a basketball court, with spectators packed into the stands on the periphery. NCU’s sky blue and white colors adorn the crisp wooden gym floor, with women hustling all over it after a singular orange ball. Half of the players on the court wear white uniforms, and the others in dark green. Lena very quickly realizes the white are the NCU players.

There are announcers’ voices attached to the livestream, but the cheers of the crowd can still be heard muffled in the background. Lena moves her cursor to exit out of the whole circus, when one of the announcers stops her in her tracks.

“Absolutely monster play by Kara Danvers there!” a man’s voice roars. He sounds on the young side; Lena wonders if he’s a student.

“I’ll tell you what, Winn, if Kara Danvers isn’t the number one pick of this year’s NWBL draft, I’ll go for a swim naked in the Bay,” and older, hoarse voice states.

Lena forgets all thoughts of exiting now. Kara going into a draft? That doesn’t sound like something she could do _and_ finish senior year at the same time. Lena’s gut twinges. Surely, Kara would wait to graduate first?

 _What are you even thinking, Luthor?_ Lena quickly scolds herself. 

It’s beyond presumptuous to think about Kara a year from now. They weren’t even supposed to have gone on for this long. Sure, Lena’s enjoyed it so far, but she’s also not naïve enough to understand it won’t end eventually. The thought makes her heart ache softly, for some reason. 

She doesn’t dwell on it, instead tuning back into the livestream. She wants to test if she can pick out Kara from the others, even in her matching uniform. It takes a moment for Lena’s eyes to catch up to the fast-moving figures, but there’s only one blonde for NCU out on the court — currently high-fiving a woman with short auburn hair. 

There. The Danvers’ sisters.

A crisp, blue ‘11’ is stitched onto both sides of Kara’s uniform. It helps Lena to keep track of her. It’s hard to look away from her, actually; she moves with such grace and strength it’s enrapturing. And even though it's distant and grainy, Lena has a feeling Kara looks _good_ in a ponytail.

The first announcer — Winn — chuckles politely. “I don’t think anyone wants to see that, Snapper. Besides, there’s still no official word if Kara will even enter the draft this year.”

“Oh?” Snapper asks. “Any insider information to share, Mr. Schott?”

“N-no, not at all,” Winn fumbles. “Anyways, looks like that’s the end of the third quarter. The score currently stands at 62-65, with the Starling Sabers ahead.”

Lena wonders if Winn does, in fact, know something. Kara has a friend with the name Schott doesn’t she? The ache under her breastbone is alleviated slightly. She wonders if she could get an answer out of Kara if she were to ask.

It’s clear from the small timer on the screen that the game will resume again after a few minutes, so Lena casts the game up onto her TV and uses the break to grab a glass of wine. When she comes back to her couch, the timer only has a few seconds remaining.

“And we’re back!” Winn’s cheerful voice announces. “Score is 62-65 going into the fourth.”

“Now, this won’t be an easy game for NCU to win,” Snapper says. “Starling is a championship-caliber team. They defeated NCU in the semi-finals of last year’s national tournament, and went on to win the gold.”

“That is true …” Winn admits, “ _But_ NCU was the national champ the year before. So what we’re really watching here are two potential championship teams duking it out, trying to size each other up early into the regular season.”

 _Huh_ , Lena realizes, instantly doing the math. _Kara has a national champion title_. 

She’s shocked that Kara’s never bragged about it. There’s some very vague, distant memory of Kara missing like three weeks’ worth of class for their freshman spring seminar. At the time, it had annoyed Lena to no end. Maybe the championship was why?

Snapper grunts into his mic. “Who do you think will finish on top?”

“Kara, obviously,” Lena snarks into her glass.

Winn hums thoughtfully. “This game? Either team. But when we get to the post-season? My money is on NCU. Starling is a great opponent, but they’ve lost a lot of their talent these past few years.”

“But they’ve still got Livewire Leslie Willis, who will likely be drafted within the first round this year,” Snapper adds. “And the sophomore, Helena Bertinelli, who’s had a breakout season.”

“True …” Winn makes a begrudging whine. “But NCU has a very strong, experienced lineup with Alex Danvers, Lucy Lane, M’gann M’orzz, _and_ Maggie Sawyer. And of course, our Supergirl — Kara Danvers.”

The nickname catches Lena’s attention immediately. Diana had called Kara that, at Lex’s party. And Clark, Lena knew now, was well known by the name ‘Superman’.

“Of course,” Snapper remarks. “Supergirl Kara Danvers, the cousin of professional basketball star Clark Kent, known better as Superman. I tell you Winn, that family has perfected the genetic code for basketball player.”

Lena sucks on her teeth as Snapper’s words rub her the wrong way. Kara is so much more than just her family. If it wasn’t for the fact the announcers are just about the only thing she _does_ understand in this game, she would’ve muted them after that.

“Starling does have some notable alumni as well,” Winn says diplomatically. “Former player Sara Lance is currently captain of the Star City Canaries, in the ‘WBL. Oliver Queen of the ‘MBL’s Star City Archers was a one-and-done at Starling before getting drafted after his freshman year.”

Lance? Lance … The name sounds very familiar, buried somewhere in the back of Lena’s mind.

“Lance was also Defensive Player of the Year her sophomore year of college,” Snapper adds. “That title is now currently held by NCU’s Lucy Lane; jersey number 1 out on that court, folks.”

“And man, Snapper, Lucy Lane’s defense tonight has looked incredible,” Winn remarks. “She gave Supergirl enough time to make up their ten-point deficit in the second quarter and has kept the Comets alive out there.”

Lena raises a brow. She still has no idea how the game works, but she can understand that Kara seems to be the major driving force behind their chances at victory, even if this Lucy is important too.

“NCU has also had several players over the years join the professional leagues,” Snapper says. “The most well-known, of course, being the legendary Diana Prin-”

Snapper is cut off by the angry roaring of the crowd.

“Foul!” Winn yells into his mic, the sound warbling harshly. “That’s a foul!”

The camera zooms in on two players, one white and one green, entangled on the floor. Lena’s heart jumps at the sight of familiar golden-blonde hair splayed out on the ground.

“Kara Danvers and Leslie Willis both down on the floor after a hard collision,” Snapper announces. 

Lena watches with bated breath as Kara slowly rolls over onto her stomach and pushes herself to her feet. _Damn, her arms look amazing_ , Lena thinks before correcting herself. _Not the time, Luthor_. 

In the background is Alex, holding a water bottle in a death grip, looking ready to jump onto the court at any second. A small, brown-haired woman is holding her back. Kara nods her head towards her sister, her face angled away from the camera. She holds a thumbs-up to a middle-aged man with a clipboard, who Lena realizes must be the coach.

Lena feels an ugly beast stir in her gut. She’s only felt this before after Jack’s ex cheated on him, or when Sam would complain about her shitty old boss. Lena could hazard a guess at what the feeling is. Luthors — for all their faults — are fiercely protective over what’s theirs.

 _But Kara’s not yours_ , Lena reminds herself, burying the beast once more. _And you want it that way._

“Phew,” Winn sighs. “Kara is back on her feet and giving the sign that she is O-K!”

“Leslie Willis seems alright as well,” Snapper says. “She’s up and arguing with the ref already.” 

Indeed, the platinum-blonde woman who collided with Kara is currently protesting in the face of a man in a black-and-white striped shirt. It’s the antithetic image of Kara, who currently has all her teammates rallied around her.

“Looks like Kara will go ahead and take two free throws,” Winn says. The players all shift in some specific arrangement around one of the hoops. The crowd goes silent as Kara dribbles the ball a few times, then stares at the hoop intently. She brings the ball up above her head and releases it in one fluid motion. 

It swishes perfectly through the net. Her second shot sinks in too, and Lena realizes she has been holding her breath.

“And that’ll tie up the game for the Comets,” Snapper says. “Let’s see if they can pull ahead now. Five minutes remaining.”

Lena would never tell a soul, but she doesn’t look away from the TV again. Every basket NCU scores, Starling answers with one of their own. The score stays neck-and-neck the entire time. Kara, Lucy, Alex and a dark-skinned woman who the announcers call M’gann all notch a few points.

There’s only two minutes to go when Kara starts to look _tired_. Apparently, Lena’s not the only one who notices.

“Supergirl is doggin’ it out there,” Snapper notes. “Let’s hope she can pick it back up.”

“Kara’s played almost every minute of the game,” Winn reminds. “But she’ll come through. She’s one of those players who can dig deep in critical moments.”

And ‘dig deep’ she does.

It’s 78-79 with thirty seconds to go.

“Come on, Kara,” Lena whispers at her screen.

Twenty seconds. Alex now has the ball. Kara is swamped by two green players. She and Lucy perform some sort of complex darting maneuver and suddenly Kara has space to breathe again. 

Alex sends the ball right into her sister’s hands.

Kara soars backwards in the air, putting just enough space between her and the green players diving towards her to get a shot off.

A loud buzzer drowns out the sound of a triumphant swoosh.

“Supergirl with the buzzer-beater three pointer to win the game!” Winn cheers. “What an incredible finish for Kara Danvers and the rest of the Comets!”

Lena loses Kara in the delighted chaos. There’s an instant dogpile of women in white uniforms in the center of the court, jumping on and hugging each other. After a minutes, their coach comes over to break them apart, and the players line up to shake hands with the other team.

For a moment, Lena can imagine what Kara must feel down there. Achievement. Power. Control. Victory. Basketball doesn’t have the intellectual fervor of Lena's own hobbies, but … _it’s exciting_.

“Final score, 81-79,” Winn says. “Your NCU Comets secure the win with a clutch shot by Supergirl.”

“There you have it folks,” Snapper says. “I’m Snapper Carr, communications analyst—”

“—and I’m Winn Schott, student sports announcer—”

“—and thanks for watching. Tune in again Saturday to watch the Comets play away at Stanhope College. Women at 1:00, Men at 7:00.”

The livestream cuts out after that, leaving a screencap of the game across Lena’s TV in its wake. She’s left in the drastic silence of her apartment, the crowd’s roars still echoing in her ears.

Her final impression of the game? Basketball might be a nonsensical, primitive activity, but damn if Kara Danvers isn’t fucking incredible at it.

What isn’t Kara Danvers incredible at? Lena’s clit throbs a request.

No. Yes. No. Maybe. Fine. _Fine_.

It’s the adrenaline, it’s the alcohol, it’s Lena’s infatuation with achievement, and it’s _most definitely_ a mistake — but Lena does it anyways.

She pulls out her phone and texts Kara three dangerous little words.

* * *

 **_hot girl bummer:_ ** _Come over tonight._

It’s the last message Kara ever expected to see on her phone. Like, literally the _last_. But also by far the best.

Kara’s wrapped in a towel, soaking wet, staring at her phone screen like it’s a gift from the gods. She’s up so high on adrenaline and excitement from her buzzer-beater victory (and also a bit tipsy from the celebratory beers half the team just chugged in the showers — thanks Mike, for the impromptu supply) that it’s all she can do to just re-read Lena’s message over and over until she’s certain it won’t disappear.

_be there in 30_

“Danvers, put some fucking clothes on!” Maggie’s voice rings out, shattering her haze. Kara zones back to her surroundings, realizing she’s still in nothing but her towel, dripping water all over the locker room floor, while her teammates are all halfway- or fully-dressed and leaving.

“You wouldn't mind if it was a different Danvers, would you Maggie?” Kara gives her a wicked grin.

Maggie beans her sweaty jersey at Kara, who catches it in one hand and flings it into the laundry cart. Alex’s face is sufficiently flushed and she looks ready to smack either Maggie or Kara — it’s impossible to tell. 

“I could kill you both,” Alex threatens.

“But you’d miss them too much,” Lucy pipes up. “Besides, they’ve only got like four brains cells between the two of them. It wouldn’t be right.”

“Thanks, Luce,” Maggie deadpans.

Taking mercy on her sister, Kara tosses the phone down and redresses. They all leave wearing the team’s signature game outfit: white shirt, blue sweatshirt, black joggers, black jacket — all emblazoned with ‘NCU Basketball’, their jersey numbers, and the logo of a fiery comet. Kara tosses her backpack over her shoulder and follows the rest of them to the training room for post-game treatment.

“Leslie was in rare form tonight,” Alex comments. “She seemed angrier than usual.”

“Yeah,” Kara sighs. “She hates me. Nothing new.”

“You guys broke up like two years ago, you’d think she’d be over it,” Lucy says.

“Nah, Leslie’s always been like that,” Kara says.

“Nothing like a woman scorned,” Alex adds.

“Tell me about it,” Kara and Maggie say at the same time, earning Maggie a very unimpressed look from Alex. Kara winces sympathetically for Maggie.

The training room is fairly empty already, since they were the last game of the night.

“Feeling alright, Kara?” one of the athletic trainers asks when she walks in. “That was a nasty hit.”

“Ugh, tell me about it,” Kara smiles. “But I’m fine, thanks Demos. I’ll probably have some nice bruises tomorrow though.”

“Make sure you grab some ice before you go,” Demos gives her a stern yet caring look.

“Will do,” Kara nods politely, already heading for the ice machine.

Kara quickly shovels ice into a few plastic bags. “You got a hot date or something?” Lucy teases, watching her with interest.

“Yes,” Kara admits before she can stop herself. Lucy looks absolutely delighted by the news.

“A weeknight booty call?” Lucy scoffs in mock-disbelief. “How very domestic of you, Kara.”

“C’mon Lucy,” Kara smiles bashfully, “You know I’m not really picky about that.”

“For better or worse,” Lucy chuckles. “Who is it?”

“I can’t tell you.”

Lucy’s eyes go wide. “It’s the same girl, isn’t it? That you’ve been seeing all semester!”

Kara shoots her a warning glare as Lucy’s voice gets louder. “Shush! And yes, maybe.”

“The sex _must_ be amazing,” Lucy squints. “You’re terrible at keeping secrets.”

“It’s out of this world,” Kara admits quietly. “Like, best I’ve ever had.”

“Jeez, Kara,” Lucy gives her an impressed look. “You go, Supergirl. Who is this mystery woman?”

“Do you really call her my ‘mystery woman’?” Kara grimaces.

“No,” Lucy says. “We call her your ‘hot girl bummer’ when we gossip about you two.”

Kara rolls her head up backwards, staring up at the ceiling in mortification. “You don’t.”

“We do,” Lucy states. “It’s your fault — you chose to save her contact as that.”

Kara brings her head back to normal and shoots a nervous glance over towards Alex, who is almost finished getting a bag of ice wrapped around her knee. “Don’t tell Alex where I’m going. Please?”

“Tell me who it is.”

“No.”

“Alright, fine,” Lucy sighs. She then gives her a playful salute before turning to Alex and Maggie, who are now lingering by the training room door, giggling back and forth while they wait. “Hey, Kara’s going to catch a ride home with James and I. You guys can head out,” she tells them.

Alex looks to Kara for confirmation, and the younger Danvers nods at her sister. “I’m good,” Kara says.

“Make sure you ice,” Alex’s voice is stern but caring. “I’ll be at Maggie’s, but call if you need anything. Love you.”

“I know, I know,” Kara says. “Love you too.”

“Good game tonight, Danvers,” Maggie nods goodbye. “You too, Lane.”

“Thanks, Maggie — you too.”

“See ya, Sawyer,” Lucy says. Alex and Maggie leave without further delay.

“Thanks, Luce,” Kara exhales in relief. “I owe you one.”

“Yes, you do,” Lucy gives her a sickeningly-sweet smile. “Oh and I _will_ cash in.”

* * *

Kara makes it to Lena’s apartment in record time for someone with ice bags wrapped all over their body. 

Lucy gives her a ride over — well, technically James is the one driving Lucy’s car — and much to her friends’ irritation, Kara makes them drop her at the street corner so they can’t watch where exactly she goes. Next, Kara quickly ditches her ice bags in a sidewalk trash can, not wanting to hobble through Lena’s swanky apartment lobby looking like the distant cousin of a snowman.

“Hi, Henry,” Kara greets the doorman with a friendly smile.

“Evening, Miss Danvers,” he nods politely, pulling the door open. They don’t chat about basketball tonight; Kara is a woman on a mission.

It feels a bit like old times, back before basketball started, when Lena would summon Kara to her bed with a text and a car. It’s hard to believe this has gone on for almost three months. Yet tonight is different than before — this is a _Wednesday_. It’s borderline sacrilegious.

(And she loves it.)

Kara is wearing the biggest, smuggest grin when Lena opens her apartment door.

“Come in,” Lena steps back to let the door swing open. Her dark hair falls over her shoulders in waves. Her makeup is still on but she’s clad in nothing but one of her silk robes, which clings to her figure in all the right places.

“Hi!” Kara says. She goes to kiss Lena immediately, the woman’s lush lips warm against her own. She has no idea how Lena is so _soft_ all the time, but she loves it.

“Your hair is still wet,” Lena grimaces, crossing her arms.

“So?” Kara shrugs, kicking off her sneakers. “Are you going to kick me out because of it?”

“... no,” Lena begrudgingly admits. “But don’t get my sheets wet.”

“Why?” Kara smirks. “You’ll get them plenty wet yourself.”

Lena’s face flushes bright red, and she bites her bottom lip in irritation. Kara wants that lip in her mouth — and maybe a different lip too.

Kara steps further into the apartment, shrugging off her backpack and letting it hit the floor with a muffled thud.

“I’m regretting this already,” Lena states, eying the haphazard backpack as if it could tear apart her pristine floors.

“No you’re not,” Kara moves her lips straight to Lena’s neck.

“Don’t get arrogant, Danvers,” Lena warns. “And if you so much as say the words ‘I’, ’told’, and ’you’ in the same sentence, I’ll throw you off my balcony.”

“But I didn’t say ‘I told you so’,” Kara frowns, feigning a sense of innocence. Mentally, she makes note to dial down the cockiness — the last thing she wants is for Lena to regret breaking the weeknight rule, or to call the night off altogether.

“You _just_ did,” Lena’s words are laced with a smug venom.

“I’m sorry,” Kara says earnestly. “I’m still a bit hyped up from the win, but you’re right. My lips are sealed.”

Lena looks at her with a bit of surprise, her crossed arms unfolding. “Very well,” she says softly, her chin tilting upwards. “Not too sealed, I hope?”

Kara answers with a demonstration. Her arms wrap around Lena’s waist, pulling the other woman against her chest.

“You smell nice,” Kara whispers. She smells like something sweet and herbal, but also a bit like wine.

“You can skip the pleasantries, Kara,” she says. Kara can feel Lena’s hands sliding underneath her jacket, pushing it off at the shoulders. Kara takes a step back to pull the sleeves off, and in doing so her eyes get drawn straight to the sky-blue light emanating from Lena’s TV.

No fucking way.

“You watched the game?” Kara’s eyes go wide with shock.

“Hardly,” Lena scoffs.

“But that’s from the livestream. You _watched_ it,” Kara just gawks over at the TV and what it means. Her heart sings under her ribcage — Lena _saw_ her game. Watched her win. “You, Lena Luthor, voluntarily watched a basketball game.”

“It was hardly premeditated. I clicked on the link by mistake,” Lena says.

“Still counts,” Kara objects. “You left it on.”

“ … the background noise might’ve been tolerable.”

“You _watched_ the game,” Kara repeats victoriously, beaming with pride and surprise. “ _My game_.”

Lena looks ready to kill them both, so Kara decides to wrap up the teasing. 

“Danvers, I swear—”

“—did you like what you saw?” Kara’s voice is an octave lower now. She steps dangerously close to Lena again, their faces only inches apart. Lena’s gorgeous green eyes stare hungrily at her lips and Kara knows she’s got it locked.

“The purpose of the game still eludes me,” Lena sighs. “But there was some decent eye-candy.”

“Eye-candy, huh?” Kara starts kissing on her neck again, one hand cupped around the side. “Any players in particular?”

“Oh,” Lena gasps as Kara sucks on an especially tender patch of her skin. “Oh, there might’ve been one or two …”

“Two?” Kara says, “I think it was just one in particular.”

“In your dreams, Supergirl,” Lena says.

Every drop of blood in Kara’s body rushes between her legs.

“Call me that again,” she dares. Her eyes are locked onto Lena’s face, and there’s a hungry smile pulling at her lips. 

“What,” Lena gives her a playful smile. “... _Supergirl_?”

In one fluid motion, Kara slides her hands down Lena’s back — one around her shoulders and one under her knees — and swiftly pulls Lena up into her arms.

“Kara!” Lena gasps in surprise, quickly clinging around Kara’s neck. “What are you doing?”

“You,” Kara states, already carrying Lena into the bedroom.

Kara tosses her down onto the bed with little ceremony. She rips off her own sweatshirt immediately, flinging it to some far, desolate corner. Lena’s fingers are already pulling her undershirt off next.

“Wait!” Lena exclaims, and Kara freezes immediately. “I’ve had a few glasses of wine. Are you sober?”

“Technically, no. Lucy and I and some of the other girls shotgunned victory beers in the locker room showers,” Kara admits. There’s an immediate pang of uncertain panic in her chest.

“Good enough,” Lena nods for Kara to continue. “I refuse to break more than _one_ of our rules tonight.”

“Don’t tell anyone, please, about the beers. It’s pretty against the rules,” Kara requests. “Even though he gave us off tomorrow, J’onn would kill us himself if he found out we drank in the locker room. But tonight was a huge win for us.”

“I won’t say a word,” Lena promises. “Honestly, I’m a bit impressed _the_ Kara Danvers broke the rules.”

“What can I say?” Kara grins, crawling on top of Lena. “I’m making a habit of _breaking rules_. You’re a bad influence on me.”

Lena lets out a rueful chuckle. “If I had an orgasm for every time I heard that, I wouldn’t need you here.”

“Good thing I’m already here then.” Kara ends the conversation by kissing Lena. Her lips are a bit rough and chapped from her mouthguard, but Lena doesn’t seem to mind. She’s so eager, she’s almost melting under Kara’s touch.

Kara is now straddling Lena’s thighs, looking down at the woman. She’s not saying anything but the desperation in her eyes makes her inner monologue perfectly clear. Eager to play, Kara tightens her core — ignoring the protests of her sore rib cage — and is delighted to see Lena’s eyes dart there immediately. 

“Like what you see?” Kara teases, yanking off her sports bra.

Lena trails two fingertips over the hard ridges. “Yes.” She then looks up through half-lidded eyes, her aloof aura discarded somewhere along with the rest of Kara’s clothes. “Take your pants off.”

Kara dismounts and quickly does so. When she returns to the bed, she slides Lena’s robe out from under her, her pupils blown wide at the sight.

 _There’s nothing that can rival a naked Lena Luthor in beauty_ , Kara thinks. There’s something absolutely hallowed about her. It almost makes Kara want to take her time, to place slow, tender kisses over every inch of moonlit skin. _Almost_. But she has some bottled-up exhilaration to burn.

Kara goes back to Lena’s lips, running a gentle tongue over the soft flesh. Lena’s lips part for her and their tongues slide against the other’s: slow, wet, and warm.

“Any special requests?” Kara asks, pulling away.

“The strap,” Lena answers. There’s a hint of desperation to her voice, and it spurs Kara to immediate action.

 _This night really couldn’t get any better_ , Kara drools. She returns to the bed with a small bottle of lube and several new inches jutting out from her groin, horny as hell. She wraps a firm hand around each of Lena’s ankles and slowly pulls her legs apart. She’s rewarded with an eyeful of pink, petaling lips and she needs to be buried in there — _now_. 

Kara slides up Lena’s body, enveloping the woman in her radiant heat. “Do you like _watching_ me, Lena?” Kara whispers into her ear. Her tone is low and practically dripping with desire.

“Yes,” Lena exhales. A needy hand clutches at Kara’s lower back. There’s a loose wisp of hair threateningly close to Lena’s eye, so Kara brushes it back behind her ear. It must be too tender of a gesture as Lena’s expression shifts to something frosty.

“Hurry up and get inside me,” she demands.

After a bit of stretching, Kara delivers without further delay.

“Fuck,” Lena’s nails dig into the skin of her lower back. “Yes. Do that again.”

Kara continues to pump her hips, Lena moaning under her. Kara’s going to be so sore tomorrow, especially her poor glutes, but fuck if it isn’t worth it.

“Let me know if I scratch you,” Lena says.

“It doesn’t hurt,” Kara replies. “You can go harder.”

“So can you,” Lena quips back.

Lena’s nails move up to her shoulders — sinking into the thick, muscular flesh as she leaves angry lines behind. It burns in the best way, spurring Kara to piston her hips faster. Kara makes a note to see if she can get Lena to do this again sometime.

They fuck in a hurry, as if neither of them can really believe it’s happening but they don’t want to miss out. Kara wraps an arm around each of Lena’s calves and hoists them upwards around her own hips, sliding in even deeper with the new angle.

“Oh fuck, Kara,” Lena gasps. Her hand shoots to rub at her clit. “Keep going. I’m close.”

“Me too.”

Lena comes with a cry and before Kara even realizes what’s happening the strap is yanked down, Lena’s hand is on her clit, and then she’s coming too.

“Lena, fuck,” Kara comes with a gasp.

They both wash up in Lena’s bathroom; Kara goes first and Lena follows after. Kara’s back laying on the bed when Lena returns to join her on the pillowy mattress. Her legs are shaking the slightest amount, and Kara notices.

“Having some trouble walking, Luthor?” Kara’s got an all-too-innocent look plastered on her face.

Lena ignores her comment entirely as she slides back into the sheets. “This was a bad idea,” she says. But her tone is too light for Kara to be concerned.

“Is it a bad idea that could happen again?” Kara asks. Her head is tilted back to look upwards at Lena, who is sitting upright.

“Perhaps,” Lena concedes, looking down at her. “You _did_ behave yourself tonight.”

“And the sky didn’t fall,” Kara adds. “Even though we broke a rule. For the second time.”

“Fine,” Lena sighs. “We can formally remove the no-weeknights rule.”

Kara can feel her face light up instantly, as if she was basking in the warm sun.

“But,” Lena adds, holding up a hand to keep the blonde at bay. “I’m still a very busy person. This won’t be a frequent thing.”

“I’m okay with that,” Kara nods. “I’m busy too. This just gives us more options.”

“More options,” Lena agrees.

“If this is what happens when I win,” Kara smiles, folding her arms behind her head. “I think I’ll have to shoot more buzzer-beaters.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Lena gives her an exasperated look. “You were just lucky I saw it in the first place.”

“True,” Kara concedes. “Think you’ll watch another game?” She gives Lena a sly, toothless smile.

Lena just rolls her eyes, which is an answer in of itself.

“I’d be happy to explain it sometime,” Kara offers.

“Actually,” Lena says. “I do have a question. One of the announcers mentioned you being drafted?”

The word ‘draft’ is sufficient to make Kara’s stomach drop. That’s not really something she wants to think about right now — especially not lying in bed with a naked Lena Luthor, the best thing that’s happened to her this year.

Kara swallows roughly. “Yeah, um, college players can declare for the draft if they want to enter the pros. If they’re good enough, a team will sign them with a rookie contract. Players have to declare by April; the draft is in August.”

“Will you declare then?” Lena asks. “In April?”

“I … I don’t know,” Kara says softly. “I haven’t decided yet; I’m kind of in my bag about it.”

Lena takes a deep breath. “Well, whatever team snags you will certainly be better off for it,” she says diplomatically.

“Thanks,” Kara gives a weak smile. “And Lena … I know sports aren’t really your thing, but it’s cool that I got to share tonight with you.”

Lena gives her an incredulous look. “You know, I don’t have anything against sports. I used to fence.”

Kara’s eyebrows shoot up with excitement as her jaw falls open. “Wait, seriously? Fencing is so cool!”

“Yeah?” Lena looks at her with amusement.

“Yeah! Alex and I used to fight with our Halloween decorations,” Kara states with pride, as if the two activities are only a hair different.

“You did _not_ just compare _fencing_ to trying to hit your sister with a plastic sword,” Lena scoffs. The look on her face could turn Kara to stone, were it not for the gentle twinkle in her eye. “It’s an artfor--actually, no, keep going.”

“No, I think I might’ve said something bad,” Kara frowns.

“You think?”

“I’m sorry,” Kara says with genuine grace. “I didn’t mean to insinuate--”

“--it’s alright, Kara,” Lena’s mock-annoyance drops back into her good-natured humor. It’s a side of her that Kara never knew she had, until recently. She likes relaxed, good-natured Lena.

“There are different swords, right?” Kara asks. “Which one did you use?”

“They’re referred to as ‘weapons’, but yes, there are three different ones,” Lena says. “The foil, the epee, and the sabre -- which is what I competed in.”

“That’s awesome,” Kara says. “How long did you fence for?”

“About eight years,” Lena replies.

“Are you any good?” Kara pokes a teasing finger into Lena’s thigh, imitating the act in question.

Lena lets out a searing scoff. “Kara Danvers, how dare you? I was a champion — I almost qualified for the Olympics.”

Kara’s head whips over to look at Lena so fast the room spins. “Seriously? The Olympics? Lena, that’s incredible! That’s so cool! I can’t believe I never knew this about you: Lena Luthor, fencing champion.”

“I hear I’m not the only champion in this bed,” Lena teases. “A national title is no small accomplishment, Kara. I’m surprised you haven’t mentioned it before.”

“Guilty as charged,” Kara blushes. She didn’t realize Lena knew about her ‘natty champ’ title. It makes her chest puff out with pride. “I don’t really brag about it. It was a team effort; it’s not mine to take credit for.”

“But your skills in bed, those are fair game?” One of Lena’s eyebrows shoots up. Kara wonders if she had to practice moving them separately with such precision, or if she’s always been able to do that.

“Obviously; I’m the one doing all the work,” Kara jokes. “So do you still fence?”

“Rarely,” Lena answers. “And if I do, it’s just for fun when I’m on break in Metropolis.”

“You don’t do it competitively anymore?”

“No,” Lena says. Her voice goes soft and somber, her body deflating in on itself. “I had to give it up with all my classes. Not enough hours in the day.”

Kara remembers how Lena had talked about her course-load and her future degrees, and how busy and stressed over them she had seemed. Kara hadn’t stopped to realize it until they had started to bed each other, but Lena was clearly under a huge burden of her family’s expectations. It was very different, but Kara could understand that feeling, in a way.

“Well, if you ever want a fencing partner with zero expertise but a willingness to get beat on without mercy, let me know,” Kara smiles softly. Her cheeks feel warm at the idea of Lena Luthor, sweaty and flushed in front of her, with a sword in her hands.

Lena chuckles, a genuine smile across her face. Lena has a lovely smile, she really does, but there’s something different about this one. It reaches all the way up to her eyes, and suddenly Kara notices that Lena has the prettiest dimples to frame her lips. Her breath catches in her chest.

“I’ll keep that in mind — and it _would be_ without mercy,” Lena says. “Now you were wonderful, _darling_ , but I have an early morning tomorrow, so I’m going to need you to go.”

Kara’s heart beats erratically at the pet name, despite the sarcasm it drips with. Oh, boy.

“Say no more,” Kara sits up with an involuntary groan.

Lena’s hand gently wraps around her forearm. “Are you alright?” Her green eyes are laced with worry. “I saw you collide with that other girl.”

Kara winces slightly. “Oh, Leslie’s done way worse. We go way back.”

“You seem familiar with her,” Lena notes. There’s an overly-neutral expression on her face, and it’s clear she’s trying hard not to seem interested. Kara wants to giggle at the tremendous effort, but the subject matter is somber enough to stop her.

“Yeah, uh,” Kara shifts around, “Leslie used to go to school here. We … kind of dated.”

“Dated?” Lena echoes. “Is that why she fouled you?”

“For five months. Things didn’t really end well …” Kara trails off, pausing for a pensive moment. She’s not sure she should even be talking to Lena about this — (who talks to their fuck buddy about their ex?) — but she does anyway. 

“Deep down, Leslie’s not a bad person,” Kara continues. “But she’s very angry and insecure. It started to affect things on the court, so I ended it.”

“Is that why she transferred schools?” Lena asks. Her expression is curious and contemplative, like she’s starting to unscramble a puzzle.

“I think so,” Kara guesses. Truthfully, she doesn’t know for certain, but she has a feeling. “She told Coach it was for basketball-reasons, but … that’s probably enough talk about my ex.”

Kara stands and redresses slowly, wincing slightly with each new step.

“Do you want me to call you a car?” Lena offers, watching the blonde with concern.

Kara opens her mouth to decline, but Lena cuts her off. “You look like you’re in pain. I’m calling you a car.”

“Thank you,” Kara relents, then lets out a short chuckle. “I shouldn’t have laid down. I’m getting old.”

“I’m sure you’ll make a full recovery,” Lena teases.

“Are you sure?” Kara looks at her with exaggerated concern. “What if I can’t move at all? I‘d have to stay here forever …”

“Out, Danvers!” Lena’s eyebrows shoot up in exasperation.

“Alright, Luthor, relax,” Kara grins. She presses a final kiss to Lena’s lips before walking towards the door. “Thanks for a fun night.”

“You too, Supergirl.”

* * *


	6. syrup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get a bit sticky, thanks to Lena’s one and only ‘manspreading idiot’. She and Kara then make some changes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is up on the boards a bit early, since I'll be out of town this weekend. Enjoy!

* * *

Lena never thought _she_ would be the one to break _yet another_ rule.

She intended to inform Kara of her blunder earlier. She really had. She even typed out a message to warn the other woman. But upon realizing that Kara had just finished up a basketball game and was about to be stuck on a bus for several hours in close proximity to her nosy, annoying friends — (Lena still remembered Lucy reading one of her messages to Kara aloud at the bar) — Lena opted to tell Kara in-person that night.

It was Saturday, after all. They were certain to see each other. But as the hours passed and Jack’s collection of beer bottles began to accumulate, Lena was no longer certain she would get to see Kara tonight. Her hope started to wane. Eventually, Andrea left with her fling of the night, and Lena decided she probably wouldn’t be far behind. But she gave it a little extra time, just in case.

Kara and her teammates didn’t stroll into Al’s until late that night. They came in with the usual chorus of whooping and laughing, likely attributed to their earlier victory. Each one was dressed-up — some in dresses and some in slacks — yet they all looked disheveled and red in the face after what was very likely a rushed pregame. 

The person Lena wants to see is the last one through the door.

The sight of Kara makes Lena’s current sip of scotch catch awkwardly, burning her throat. She’s wearing a plain white button-up halfway untucked from blue slacks and mildly-scuffed brown leather shoes. The shirt-sleeves are rolled halfway up her forearms (a familiar black and gold watch wraps around one of them) and the top two shirt buttons are undone, displaying her collarbone. It looks effortless yet breathtaking. It’s also the first time Lena has seen Kara Danvers look overdressed for her surroundings. Not that Lena minds.

Kara distances herself from Lena while her friends order their first round of shots, too skittish to draw attention to the palpable heat between them. But Lena can still practically feel Kara’s stare on her figure — she wore one of her tight, black cocktail dresses out. It would seem to be having the intended effect.

At one point, Kara gets bold enough to reach over Lena’s shoulder to grab a few cups from the bar-top. Lena uses that precise moment to run a hand up the inside of Kara’s thigh, and Kara’s fingers accidentally slip into the drinks. Lena doesn’t acknowledge it, nor does Kara.

When the coast is clear, Kara plops down on the barstool next to Lena, looking straight ahead. 

“You look stunning.” Lena can practically hear Kara swallow roughly. The blonde sets an indifferent arm across the back of Lena’s chair, but it’s anything but.

“Late night, darling?” Lena asks nonchalantly, sipping at her scotch. She doesn’t dare look directly at Kara either, especially not with Jack’s ecstatic, smug eyes trained on her every move from over William’s shoulder.

“A bit,” Kara says, slightly breathless. “Bus broke down halfway back to National City. We literally just got back — ran here straight from the locker room. Thankfully, we have to dress up to travel so we didn't need to stop for new clothes.”

Kara’s rather formal attire makes more sense with that information. Most people would know better than to wear a white button-up to a dive bar and still expect it to be white when they left.

“Are you that eager for your radioactive cocktail?” Lena teases. From the corner of her eye, she can see the bright green of a melon sour in Kara’s hand.

“Nah, I didn’t want to miss you.” The honesty in Kara’s reply almost stops her poor gay heart.

Lena gulps.

“Well, lucky you,” Lena says smoothly, trying to regain control. “I was just about to head out when you arrived, actually.”

“Oh,” Kara says. “Let’s go then. If you want to, that is.”

“Are you certain?” Lena says. “You just got here. Your friends …”

“I know what I want, Lena,” Kara’s voice is low and Lena can feel herself instantly become wet. If the payoff wasn’t so worthwhile, Lena would almost be ashamed of how quickly her body reacts to Kara.

“Is that right?” Lena finally turns to look at Kara, one eyebrow cocked. 

Oh. Kara looks ready to _devour_ her, and Lena decides her confession can wait.

They don’t make it to the bed.

It’s Kara’s fault really, since she starts unzipping Lena’s dress in the elevator. It’s a mess of hands and lips and need as they burst through Lena’s front door. One of Kara’s hands hikes up Lena’s dress and the other pulls down her lace underwear.

“Are your hands clean?” Lena asks quickly, remembering her earlier slip.

“Uh …” Kara takes a second too long to respond.

“Wash your hands,” Lena demands, pulling away. The blonde quickly complies, and Lena uses the time to wiggle out of her already-unzipped dress in the middle of her foyer.

“Okay, clean,” Kara announces. Now to get her just as naked. Lena tackles unbuttoning Kara’s shirt while the blonde works on her belt.

They resume making out immediately, stumbling backwards through the apartment. Kara’s warm, bare arms wrap around Lena’s waist like a vice, while Lena runs her fingers through Kara’s hair.

They land on the couch with a thud, Kara pulling Lena down on top of her.

“Kara!” Lena exclaims. She tries her best to straddle Kara, not wanting to knee any vital organs, but judging by the look of regret on Kara’s face, she’ll be sporting a new bruise somewhere tomorrow.

“Not your best idea?” Lena guesses.

“Not my best idea,” Kara confirms.

“You’re an idiot,” Lena informs her, pressing her lips to Kara’s.

“Does that make you an idiot-sexual?” Kara asks into Lena’s mouth. “Lena Luthor likes ‘em hot and dumb?”

Lena jerks back to look at Kara in the face. “Shut up, Danvers.”

“Make me.” The challenge is crystal clear.

Lena knows just what to do.

She grabs one of Kara’s hands by the palm, squeezing it in such a way that her index and middle fingers pop up slightly, and smoothly slides them into her mouth.

“Oh, fuck, Lena,” Kara yelps.

Lena watches with smug satisfaction as Kara’s pupils get blown impossibly wide. Lena sucks on the digits, her tongue twisting and sliding along the length of Kara’s fingers. Kara’s lips part slightly as her jaw drops, no longer capable of anything other than breathless gawking. Lena’s other hand wanders down between Kara’s thighs as she shoots the blonde a questioning look, awaiting confirmation.

“Go for it,” Kara gasps, and Lena’s inside her. Lena manipulates Kara’s fingers in her mouth to mirror the motion of her own digits buried in Kara’s warmth. Eventually, she brings Kara to the edge, sucking and thrusting in tandem, and then she comes.

Kara takes a minute to recover from her orgasm, but when she does, she’s back with full force.

“Sit on my face,” Kara says. It’s less of a request and more of a statement, as Kara’s already pulling Lena into place with a strength that makes her absolutely soaked. She ends up with a knee on either side of Kara’s head, framing her skull, as Kara pulls her pelvis down to eat her out.

“Fuck,” Lena gasps. This is a new position to her; it’s so vulnerable and exposed, yet in Kara Danvers’ strong hands, she feels more relaxed than she’s ever been. Kara’s breathing grows labored over time, but she opens her eyes to look up at Lena every so often. It’s a way of checking in for them both.

“Kara, don’t stop, please,” Lena begs, tremoring. Kara’s hands tighten on her thighs, locking her in place and providing all the stability she needs to let go. And she does.

She feels like she’s weightless, even as she collapses onto Kara.

But as Lena comes down from the high, she’s once again saddled by the weight of disclosing her indiscretion. She’s played out every version of this scenario in her head — it always ends with Kara reacting poorly. Three broken rules is too many — right? Surely, Kara would have misgivings about it. 

So here she is now, standing in her kitchen wearing nothing but a grey silk robe, her hair a tousled mess, ready to confess her sin. She’s leaning back against the counter watching as Kara shoves her head into Lena’s fridge for some unknown, forsaken reason. Her black coffee is still steaming hot in her hand and the floors are cold under her bare feet. It’s that dichotomy that finally shocks her system back to functioning.

Lena takes a deep breath. “Kara, we need to talk,” she blurts out in a moment of bravery. “About the rules.”

“One sec. Lena, there’s literally _no food_ in here,” Kara sounds frustrated. She continues to stare into the white void of the empty appliance, as if expecting food to magically appear from hiding. 

“Hungry, Danvers?” Lena raises an eyebrow at the sharp tone. “Staring into my fridge won’t fill it.”

“Yes,” Kara growls. “I haven’t eaten since our tailgate after the game today.” She grabs her stomach in demonstration.

While Lena’s got her nose buried in her coffee, Kara gives up hope on the fridge and begins to rummage through the cabinets nearby.

“Where’s all your food, Lena?” Kara sounds progressively more vexed. _“What do you eat?"_

“Jack and I ate out all week,” Lena defends herself. “We had this massive thermodynamics assignment due.” 

“But you don’t even have any snacks?” Kara whines. “Besides yourself, of course.”

The blonde’s comment buys a minute of silence while Lena tries to stop blushing.

“Kara, can you please stop digging through my cupboards?” Lena’s tone is exasperated enough to make Kara suddenly self-aware. “I’m trying to tell you something.”

“Sorry,” Kara looks apologetic. “What’s up?”

“I …” Lena takes a deep inhale. “I might’ve broken another of our rules.”

. . . . . . . .

_“Since when do you watch basketball?”_

_The sudden intrusion and accusation startled Lena. She whipped around, jostling the laptop on her lap, already knowing from the voice whose blood was soon to be on her hands._

_“Jack!” Lena admonished. The man was already halfway into her apartment, a large paper bag in his arms and a massive grin on his bearded face._

_“Hi, honey, I’m home,” Jack sang, not yet aware of his grievous sin._

_“What the hell are you doing?” Lena’s eyes were wide with angry mortification._

_“Bringing you lunch, since I know you,” Jack frowned. “What’s got you all twisted?”_

_“Your spare key, now,” Lena demanded, holding out an empty palm._

_“Wait, what?” Jack pulled his head back in confusion. “Why?”_

_“Because you continue to barge into my home, uninvited and unwelcome.” Lena stated._

_“Very funny, Lena, I’m always welcome,” Jack shrugged off her irritation, placing the bag of food in front of her as if to prove his point._

_“Jack,” Lena seethed._

_Jack jingled his keys in his palm absentmindedly, his eyes focused back on the basketball livestream across Lena’s massive TV. “You still haven’t explained the basketball game. Since when do you watch team sports?”_

_“I don’t,” Lena sighed. “It’s just on for noise.” From the TV drifted the sounds of sneakers squeaking on floorboards and the rhythmic thumping of a basketball being dribbled._

_Jack didn’t buy it. He just stood there, staring at the screen, pondering the deeper meaning._

_(Lena could only watch in frozen horror as the dots were quickly connected by his mind.)_

_“Oh my god …!” Jack rubbed a large hand over his beard. “You’re fucking someone on the basketball team. That’s why you’re being so defensive right now.” His hand fell back down from his face, revealing a massive grin plastered in its place._

_“Absolutely not,” Lena’s answer was just a second too quick._

_“You_ definitely _are, oh boy,” Jack eyed Lena with a look of absolute, pure delight. “Tell me_ everything _.”_

_“There’s nothing to tell,” Lena crossed her arms over her chest._

_“Who is it?” Jack continued. He plopped down on the edge of the chair adjacent to Lena, his elbows on his knees as he leaned towards her with rapt interest. “Tell me who it is.”_

_“I’d rather die on the spot,” Lena gave him a fake close-lipped smile. Jack was the only person she knew that could simply disregard a gesture that venomous. Well, him and Kara._

_“It’s Kara Danvers,” Jack stated, leaning back in his chair with dramatic gravitas._

_What the actual fuck, Jack Spheer?_

_It was like he read her very thoughts. Lena instantly regretted her choice in best friend; why had she chosen him again? (Because she needed someone able to keep up with her and call her out on her shit, but that was beside the point.)_

_“How in the hell did you come to that conclusion?” The gears in Lena’s brain still turned desperately in search of a last-ditch alibi._

_“Please,” Jack snorted. “She’s gorgeous. I saw her arm around your chair at Casino Night. Doesn’t take a genius.”_

Fucking hell, Kara Danvers, you manspreading idiot.

_“Besides,” Jack continued, chest swelling with pride. “You’ve hated her since freshman year. And seeing that you hate yourself too …”_

_“Shut up, Jack,” Lena bit back. It was the nail in the coffin to the secrecy of her arrangement. “That’s rich, coming from you.”_

_“People don’t keep a secret fuck-buddy if they don’t hate themselves a little, Lena,” Jack spoke all clinical and matter-of-fact. “I’m the resident expert, after all.”_

_Now that was a hard point to argue. Lena decided to ignore it instead, and go back to damage control._

_“Not a word about this, Jack,” Lena warned. Her voice was sharp and icy enough to cut to the bone. “Not even to Andrea.”_

_Jack’s smug smile fell from his face. “Wait, seriously?”_

_“Yes,” Lena said. “Not a word. This is a genuine, Luthor-grade threat. No friendship between us will save you if you so much as say a single—”_

_“—alright, fine, fine,” Jack agreed. His next words were too soft for Lena’s liking. “This is clearly an absolute clusterfuck … but I’m happy for you, Lena.”_

_“Don’t say that, Jack,” Lena threatened._

_“Do you like her?”_

_“No,” Lena seethed. She regretted the word as soon as it left her mouth. It stung her lips, and she needed to fix it._

_In a softer tone this time, she said, “Kara is … nice. We’re … friends. That’s all.”_

_“Friends is good,” Jack said, his usual vigor dampened in the name of patience._

_“Friends with benefits,” Lena amended, more for her own sake than Jack’s._

_She looked over at her friend, only to see him looking back at her with the strangest look in his eyes. It was the same suspicious-yet-loving look he had given her over a poker table not so long ago. Lena’s stomach boiled at the sight -- who was he, Jack Spheer, to think he knew her feelings better than she did?_

_No one knew Lena Luthor, how she felt. Only she did._

_And she felt nothing but platonic towards Kara Danvers. It was all business._

_“Your secret is safe with me,” Jack promised, bringing her back to the moment. “Now, come eat lunch. I got your favorite salad.”_

_“With raspberry vinaigrette?” Lena pined a little. Her mouth started to water as Jack set her meal in front of her._

_“Of course, Miss Luthor,” Jack joked._

_“Keep this up, Jack,” Lena said. “And maybe you’ll work your way back into my graces yet.”_

_“Does this mean I can keep my spare key?” Jack asked._

_“_ ** _Absolutely_** _not,” Lena said with zeal. “Hand it over.”_

_“Lena …” Jack whined, but he threw the spare key onto the coffee table anyway._

_“Thank you,” Lena gave a firm nod of her head._

_“Well, now that you’ve taken all you can from me …” Jack sighed dramatically. “So — how’s the sex?”_

_Lena’s food caught dead in her throat._

. . . . . . . .

“So Jack knows now?” Kara speaks slowly, staring blankly across Lena’s kitchen.

“Yes,” Lena admits, rubbing her brow. “I’m sorry, Kara, he caught me watching your game and figured out the rest.”

“Wait,” Kara’s head whips over to look at Lena. “He caught you watching my game last Wednesday?” There’s a crinkle between her eyebrows.

Lena sucks on her teeth. “… No,” she exhales begrudgingly. “Today’s game.”

Kara’s face lights up like a sunrise — soft at first, then a surge of bright light. 

“You watched _another_ game!?”

“… it might’ve been on in the background,” Lena states, clenching her jaw. “I was mainly focused on getting this damn presentation together on bioinformatics.”

“So Jack knows about us now — because you watched my game?” Kara repeats. 

Lena nods somberly, bracing herself for Kara’s next words. Surely, the blonde is upset. Lena can still remember a scathing _“fine by me”_ echoing around in her memory.

They’ve already decimated half of their rules, and Lena doesn’t care for the direction the rest are trending in. The logical move is to end things now, while they’re still ahead. Lena knows she _should_ end it, but she doesn’t have it in her, so she just hopes Kara will be merciful enough to do it for her … with those perfect, pink lips.

“Oh, well that’s fine,” Kara shrugs.

“What?” Lena can’t believe what she’s hearing.

“Yeah, it’s no big deal,” Kara shrugs again. “You trust Jack, right? It’s just one person. It’s fine. Nothing to be upset over.”

“Oh.”

Well, Lena hadn’t planned for that response. She doesn’t know what to say next.

Kara apparently senses her surprise. “You think too much, Luthor.”

“It’s dangerous, I know,” Lena agrees with a rueful smile. “But Kara, we need to talk about what this means.”

“Fine,” Kara agrees. “But not here; you have no food and I need to eat.”

“Can we not finish the discussion first, and then you can go hunt down your next meal?” Lena gives her an entirely unimpressed look. “It’s late.”

“Nope,” Kara says. “I haven’t eaten in like nine hours. Priorities.”

“Kara—”

“Nope, come on,” Kara nudges her with a smirk. “Get dressed. Besides, you have to make it up to me now. ”

“But, Kara, how could I _possibly_ make it up to you with my clothes _on_ _?”_ Lena plays coy. 

“You’re incredibly hot,” Kara swallows roughly, taking a step back. “But I’m incredibly hungry. You buy me food — then we can talk about Jack. Deal?”

Lena takes a moment to respond.

Eating a meal together? That’s not something she would’ve ever imagined herself doing with Kara Danvers. What would they even talk about? Though, conversation _has_ flowed free and easy between them recently. And here she is, staring down an irresistibly-cute puppy-dog look, actually considering the idea. Kara’s sweet blue eyes are a weapon and she does _not_ wield them responsibly. It’s Lena’s undoing.

That’s how Lena discovers pussy isn’t the only thing Kara Danvers eats like a champ.

* * *

“Man, I’m starving,” Kara mumbles, eyes raking over the concerningly-large diner menu.

Even though she already knows exactly what she’ll order, she still browses it to have something to do. Plus, she can sneak little glimpses of Lena over the top of it. The other woman sits opposite her, high up in a diner booth that looks to be older than both of them combined. The decor is old, retro, and horribly outdated, but it adds to the charm. 

Lena’s now in a more casual outfit of jeans, sweater, and peacoat, but Kara is back in her dress clothes from earlier. She’s tried her best to make it seem like the clothes hadn’t just been ripped off of her only a couple hours before, with a low bun to disguise her sex-hair. The walk over to the diner had been a bit cold — Kara’s liquor blanket had worn off sometime in Lena’s apartment — and she regretted leaving her coat in the locker room. But the promise of food was well worth it.

It took a bit of convincing, and bargaining, and puppy-grade pouting from Kara, but in the end, Lena agreed. So here they were, sharing a booth in Bob’s Diner. Kara has spent so many late nights at this diner, in this very booth. There’s a familiar dip in the seat that she's worn into it over time. An updated NCU basketball calendar even hangs on the wall — that’s how often she and her friends come here. They’re regulars.

But being here with Lena instead, everything feels almost brand-new.

“So what do you think?” Kara asks.

“Think of what?” Lena replies in turn.

“Of the diner,” Kara smiles, gesturing around at the brightly-colored leather and neon lights. “Fun, right?”

“It’s … charming,” Lena says. “Though a bit … sticky. Not unlike Al’s, I suppose.”

Kara frowns in annoyance. “Speaking of Al, he’s on my shit list,” Kara said.

“Why’s that?”

“Our vodka shots tonight came diluted,” Kara pouts. From time to time, Al had been known to dilute shots when he was starting to run low on liquor for the night — it was one of the reasons it was best to get to the bar early.

“Oh, you poor baby,” Lena patronizes. Kara opens her mouth to respond, but is cut short by the arrival of civilized company.

“Hello there, ladies,” the chipper waitress greets them. She’s in her mid-thirties or forties and has a friendly round face. She’s been working at the diner all three years Kara has been a patron of it, and probably longer.

“Hi, Sarah,” Kara smiles with familiarity. “Busy night?”

“Not too bad,” Sarah gives a friendly reply. “Haven’t seen you here in weeks, Kara.” She fixes Kara with a look of matronly admonishment.

“Oh yeah, uh … basketball has been keeping me really busy,” Kara shoots a quick glance across the table, where Lena is sucking on her lips, clearly holding in a laugh.

“Well it’s good to see you back,” Sarah smiles. “Are the rest of your friends joining tonight? Tell Mike he won’t be charming his way into any free food tonight.” She puts on a stern look.

“Oh, no, just the two of us tonight,” Kara replies quickly. “The boys played away today and are still on the bus-ride back.”

“Bless! Those boys eat for hours …” Sarah gives a friendly roll of her eyes. “Alright then, ladies — one check or separate?” she rattles off, as if suddenly switched to auto-pilot.

“Uh,” Kara’s eyes go wide with panic. “Um, sep—”

“I’m paying,” Lena states. “My treat.” Her jaw is firmly set in a way that would make most people bow down, but Kara doesn’t flinch. (If anything, she looks the smallest bit excited.)

“Are you sure?” Kara looks at Lena warily, holding onto some semblance of politeness. “People always underestimate how much I can eat.”

“Oh, game on,” Lena challenges with a intrigued smile.

Kara turns back to the waitress. “Just the one check then, Sarah.”

Sarah nods, whipping open her notepad. “And what can I get you girls tonight?”

“Just a black coffee, please,” Lena requests.

“Lena, no! You have to get food too,” Kara insists. The blonde glances over at the waitress for assistance.

“It’s true, ma’am,” Sarah nods. “We make the best bacon in all of National City.”

“They do,” Kara echoes.

Lena’s stomach gives a small rumble at the suggestion of bacon. “Fine,” Lena relents, and Kara perks up immediately. “A side of bacon and fruit, as well.”

The waitress gives Lena a satisfied nod that matches Kara’s pleased smile.

“And the usual for me, please, Sarah,” Kara gives the waitress a dazzling smile, which she returns.

“Coming right up,” Sarah collects their menus and turns to head to her next table. At the very last second, she gives Kara a knowing wink that makes the girl’s stomach flip.

“The usual?” Lena repeats. “Do you come here often?”

“Out of season? All the time,” Kara says. “In season, less often. It’s halfway between Al’s and campus, so it used to be the perfect place to stop after a night out. It’s less convenient now since we moved off-campus, but it’s worth the walk.”

“How did you even find this place?” Lena asks, looking around. It’s a bit of a hole-in-the-wall establishment, clearly grandfathered into the matrix of more modern buildings that envelope it.

“James, Lucy, and I found this place during freshman orientation,” Kara explains. “We dragged Alex and Winn here right away. Mike joined us a bit later, and Maggie started to come once she and Alex were dating. Nia and her boyfriend will come occasionally too.”

“Nia?” Lena asks.

“Oh yeah, I guess you haven’t met Nia yet,” Kara says. “Nia is a sophomore on the team, but she doesn’t like drinking, so her and her boyfriend, Brainy, usually stay in on the weekends.”

“Is his name actually Brainy?” Lena’s eyebrows come together.

“No, it’s just a nickname,” Kara chuckles. “His real name is Querl, but he’s a whiz at physics. One of the smartest people I know.”

“And the others?” Lena gives Kara a coy smile.

“I’ll plead the fifth, Luthor,” Kara winks. “No need to make your ego any bigger.” 

That’s a lie — Kara finds herself taking every opportunity to remind Lena how wonderful she is: at the bar, in bed, even here at the diner. It’s so easy to say the words; they just fall from her lips. That's an okay sign, right?

“Kara?” Lena snaps her out of her daze. “You successfully dragged me to this diner. Can we talk about the Jack-situation now?”

“Nope,” Kara denies, gesturing down at the empty table. “I don’t have my food yet.”

Lena sighs. “You’re unreasonable.”

“And I’m starting to think you like it,” Kara beams.

Lena rolls her eyes. ”Don’t even. What is ‘the usual’ by the way?”

_(Her question is answered only a moment later when the waitress, Sarah, returns with a tray full of food for their table._

_Apparently, ‘the usual’ is a towering stack of french toast, dusted in confectioner’s sugar, along with a plate full — and Lena means full, she can’t even see the ceramic underneath — of three sunny-side up eggs, a fist of bacon, a bowl of assorted fruit, and hashbrowns._

_There’s no way Kara can eat that all. For fucks’ sake, the woman has a damn six-pack. But she does, and Lena realizes Kara’s six-pack is in spite of her diet, not because of it. She’s not sure if she should be jealous or impressed.)_

“ _What_ are you doing?” Lena watches in horror as Kara drowns her french toast in syrup.

“What?” Kara is confused. She glances down at her plate, which Lena is currently looking at with a look of alarm. “Do you not like syrup?”

_(Lena is jarred back to functioning by Kara’s pronunciation of the last word. ‘Sir-rup’. It sounds harsh and abrupt.)_

“It’s ‘shee-rop’, not ‘sir-rup,” Lena corrects. “And no one should ingest that much of it at once.”

“Pretty sure it’s ‘sir-rup’,” Kara argues playfully. “And I have a superhuman metabolism, remember?”

“No, it’s ‘shee-rop’,” Lena refuses to budge. “And that won’t save you from diabetes, Kara.”

“Careful, Luthor, your Irish is showing,” Kara smirks, cheeks puffed out by an extra-large bite of french toast. (It’s sinfully adorable, but Lena’s too focused on Kara’s words to pay it much mind.)

“Irish?” Lena tilts her head in surprise. “You know I’m Irish?”

“I mean, I figured, you have a painting of the Cliffs of Moher above your bed,” Kara states. 

Lena lifts a questioning eyebrow — her lips already parted to ask — when Kara cuts her off. “Alex and I had a basketball tournament in Ireland a few years ago.”

“So you made that conclusion solely off of a single painting?”

“Well you also still have a bit of an accent,” Kara continues, face suddenly flushed. “Especially, when we … you know …”

“Are fucking?” Lena raises her other eyebrow. “Well, I’m sure Lillian will be mortified to hear she wasn’t able to get that fully trained out of me.”

“Shhh, I come here a lot,” Kara shoots a nervous glance over at the diner counter. “And well good, I like your accent.”

“Don’t you bring all your women here?” Lena’s voice is snide and Kara can practically see her defenses going up.

“No. I’ve never brought anyone here but my friends.”

“Oh.” Lena chugs a bit of her coffee to dodge the silence that follows.

“So, what did you think of today’s game?” Kara gives Lena a curious look.

“It was, admittedly, less exciting than the last one I saw. The thirty-point differential was a bit ridiculous, don’t you think?” Lena gives her a judgmental look.

“It’s not our fault Stanhope is terrible!” Kara objects. “Besides, J’onn benched me halfway through anyways, so it’s not like I’m responsible for it.”

Lena’s eyebrow rises, a direct challenge. It’s also a subtle confirmation that she _did_ watch the game.

“Not all of it,” Kara grumbles under her breath.

“Your friend is one of the announcers, isn’t he?” Lena asks.

Kara gives her a close-lipped smile, almost comically large as the food shoved in her mouth puffs out her cheeks. After allowing herself a minute to finish chewing, she says, “Winn? Yeah! He does a pretty good job, at least for the boys’ games I’ve seen.”

“He does,” Lena agrees. “Though, the other announcer … leaves something to be desired.”

“That’s a much nicer way to phrase it than most people do,” Kara chuckles. “Snapper can be a bit … abrasive. He tends to play ‘devil’s advocate’ a lot.”

Both women roll their eyes in sync, only to realize and start to giggle.

“If I could mute him selectively, I would,” Lena says.

“Maybe that could be Luthor Corp’s next project?” Kara offers. She blinks a few times, realizing she doesn’t actually know how involved Lena is in the family business. “Do you get to do any work for Luthor Corp?”

“During the school year, Lex will send me a project to look over every once and awhile, but nothing in an official capacity,” Lena answers. “But during the summers I usually work in one of the nano labs in Metropolis.”

“Will you get your own lab once you graduate?” Kara asks. “Not ‘get’ like you’d just be handed it since it’s your family’s company, obviously you deserve it, you’re super qualified and so—”

“—yes,” Lena cuts her off, and Kara can catch her breath again. She doesn’t seem offended, which is a good sign. If anything, she looks … relieved. “I’ll need to get my PhD first, but then I’ll join Luthor Corp’s research division.”

“That’s really cool,” Kara smiles. “I think ‘Dr. Lena Luthor’ has a nice sound to it.”

Lena’s cheeks turn pink. “I think so too. Though as far as titles go, ‘Supergirl’ is quite a good one.”

“Yeah, I like it actually,” Kara confesses. “It always ties me to Kal, but I don’t mind. I see it as a challenge to rise to — and once I start playing in the pros, I can really start to make it my own.”

“Kara …?” Lena asks slowly. “Will you … explain it to me? Basketball.”

“Of course!” Kara whips upright in her delight. She can’t believe Lena Luthor, of all people, just asked her to explain her favorite activity on the face of the planet. She has to start now before Lena changes her mind.

“Uh, okay,” Kara’s eyes flutter all over the table, looking for any makeshift teaching aids. She settles for the rack of sugar packets; she grabs five and throws them down into a lopsided X. Then she glances up to see if Lena is ready — she is.

“Okay,” Kara begins, setting a finger onto the sugar packet closest to her left hand. “This is the point guard, also known as the ‘one’ or the PG.”

“The point guard is usually the best ball-handler, and a good shooter, especially from distance,” Kara explains. “They’re the leader on the court; they call plays and set things in motion. A good guard is a playmaker, thinking about more than just scoring or themselves.”

Lena nods, so Kara moves to the next sugar packet — this one is closest to her right hand.

“This is the shooting guard, SG, or two,” Kara says. “They’re usually the best shooter on the team, and can make shots from all over.”

“Are you the shooting guard, then?” Lena asks.

“No, Alex is,” Kara says. She gives Lena a bright smile, the inexplicit compliment spreading a warmth across her chest. “I’m a pretty decent shooter, but Alex is better. She’s got ice in her veins.”

“Kindred spirits, then,” Lena quips. “I’m no stranger to my ‘ice queen’ reputation.”

“I … might’ve heard that before,” Kara coughs modestly. “And if I ever said it, I take it back. You’re good, and thoughtful, and kind-hearted. Everyone else has you pegged wrong.”

Lena bows her head gratefully. “And I take back any derogatory comments I made about your intelligence or your ego. You’re a much more complex person than I gave you credit for, Kara Danvers.”

“Thank you, Lena,” Kara’s mind starts to drift off in Lena’s enchanting green eyes. The spell is only broken when Lena looks down at her coffee, and Kara eyes drop down as well. The arrangement of bright pink packets everywhere quickly reminds her of the task at hand.

“Right! Okay, back to basketball,” Kara says. She moves her hand to the sugar packet in the middle. “This is the center, C, or five.”

“It jumps from two to five?” Lena asks.

“I’m going out of order because I think it makes more sense this way,” Kara quickly replies.

“Fair enough.” Lena nods for her to continue.

“Okay, so the center takes shots from low and draws defenders onto them, making space elsewhere for us to make plays,” Kara says. “M’gann M’orzz is our starting center; she’s Alex’s year and also the tallest of all of us, which helps.”

“And what about these two?” Lena asks, gesturing to the two packets near her side of the table.

“Those are the forwards,” Kara says with a smile. “They’re usually the best defenders on the team.”

She stretches a long arm out across the table to touch the sugar packet on Lena’s left. It’s oddly intimate for such a simple gesture; Lena could reach out and touch Kara so easily if she wanted to.

“This one is the small forward. Also known as SF or the three,” Kara says. “They’re versatile and good at scoring anywhere — whether it’s baseline, mid-range, or a far shot. They’re also good at drawing fouls.”

Before Lena can ask, Kara answers, “Lucy is our small forward.”

“I see,” Lena’s answer is short and choppy and Kara can’t exactly decipher the tone behind it, so she moves on.

“And this last player is the power forward, four, or PF,” Kara says. “The power forward is very consistent and reliable. They take a lot of mid-range or close shots. Maggie is our power forward; Diana is one too.”

Lena nods a few times, staring at the sugar packets analytically. Her look is curious and calculating. “I’m going to hazard a guess you’re a … point guard, is it?”

“Yup!” Kara grins. “I mean, yeah, that’s me.”

“Why so humble?” Lena gives her an amused look. “Even I can recognize you have skills.”

“Oh, I just,” Kara fumbles to find words. “Didn’t want to come off as cocky.”

“Since when has that ever been a concern of yours?” Lena’s brow wrinkles in disbelief.

“Hey, this isn’t about me!” Kara defends. “I’m trying to explain the game to a newbie; it’s not the time to brag.”

“I’m not a ‘newbie’, Kara,” Lena fakes annoyance. “I’ve beaten grandmasters at chess. I think I can handle a few basketball concepts.”

“Let me guess, you were some sort of child prodigy?” Kara half-jokes, half-guesses.

“You’re correct, actually.” Lena’s red lips are set into a smug grin and Kara has to resist the urge to vault over the table to kiss them.

“Can you teach me to play?”

“You want to learn how to play chess?” Lena repeats in shock. “You, the basketball star?”

“Well, yeah, it’s a very mental, strategic game right?” Kara asks innocently. “Good basketball is like that too. Maybe I’ll learn something I can use on the court.”

“Very well,” Lena nods her acceptance. “I’m warning you now, I don’t hold back against my opponents. I’ve been told I’m rather ruthless.”

Kara gives her a wicked grin. “Bring it on; I don’t want you pulling any punches. If I win, I want to earn it.”

Lena laughs in an assured way that makes Kara think it’ll be a long time before her hypothetical victory ever comes to fruition.

“Are there any other basketball rules I should know?” Lena asks.

“You and your rules, Luthor,” Kara gives a joking tsk. “But yes, actually.”

“Continue, then, before you lose my interest,” Lena advises.

“Please,” Kara scoffs. “As _if_ you could lose interest in the best game on the planet.”

“You'll be shocked to hear not everyone sees it that way,” Lena shakes her head.

“You will,” Kara promises. “Okay, so how points work …”

She stops to draw an invisible square on the tabletop. 

“The square in front of the basket is the paint. Anything shot from inside the paint is worth two points.”

Kara draws another line on the table, this one a large semi-circle. “This is the three-point line. Anything shot outside of it is worth three points; anything inside is worth two. Two or three-pointers — these shots are technically called field goals.”

Lena’s lips purse together in thought. “There was a moment in Wednesday’s game, a foul?” she asks.

“Yeah, there are fouls too. If you get fouled, you get to shoot a free-throw from the line, which is at the top of the paint,” Kara adds. “Each free throw is worth one point. The number of free throws you get is decided by where and how you were fouled.”

“I take it that tackling the opposing players is usually frowned upon?” Lena raises her eyebrows, clearly referencing Kara’s collision with Leslie Willis.

“Yeah,” Kara’s reply is soft and curt. “Some players are much more physical than others, and tend to draw more fouls.” That’s about as diplomatic of a comment she can make towards Leslie’s playstyle. Leslie is a physical player, but they’ve already discussed there’s more than just heated competition driving her.

“Who fouls the most, out of your teammates?” Lena asks, saving Kara from herself.

Kara breaks out into a grin. “Maggie. Oh, Maggie for sure.”

“Alex’s girlfriend, right?” Lena chuckles along.

“That’s the one,” Kara confirms. “And boy, does she talk back to the refs too.”

“I assume that’s also frowned upon?”

“Incredibly,” Kara nods. “Apparently, self-righteous, aging men don’t really like it when they get called out on their bullshit, even if it’s a bad call on their part.”

“Hah,” Lena scoffs. “Now _that_ sounds just like the Luthor Corp boardroom meetings I’ve attended.”

Kara nods vigorously as she swallows a mouth-full of eggs.

“So, what do you think?” Kara asks slowly. “Is basketball winning you over?”

“Perhaps,” Lena concedes with a soft smile. “It has its redeeming qualities.”

“I’m glad,” Kara smiles. “The last thing you should know is the format: each game is broken into four ten-minutes quarters. There’s also a shot clock. The team with the ball has 30 seconds to try and shoot, otherwise it’s given to the other team. It’s intended to keep the game moving at a fast pace.”

Lena nods.

“That’s pretty much the basics. You still with me?” Kara asks.

“I think I have a rudimentary, but sufficient, understanding for now,” Lena says, “Thank you, Kara.”

“No problem,” Kara smiles, digging back into her remaining food. It’s cold by now but she doesn’t care. “I’m glad you asked.”

Once the contents of Kara’s plates have fully disappeared, Lena’s mood seems to shift. It’s an obvious change to Kara — the straight, overly-proper posture, the set jaw, and the firm lips. The determined look in Lena’s eyes (that may or may not make Kara go weak in the knees).

“Kara, we still need to discuss the incident with Jack,” Lena reminds. “You’ve had your food now.”

“What about it?” Kara looks at her blankly. This, still? Lena clearly doesn’t let things go — but she kind of knew that already. “Jack knows. I told you, it’s no big deal.”

“Yes, but …” Lena hisses, visibly annoyed (with herself). “It means _yet another_ broken rule.”

Kara blinks at her a few times, brow crinkled deep in thought. “Okay. I have a suggestion.”

“Yes …?”

“And,” Kara says. “My suggestion is: stop caring about the rules so much.”

Lena is still as stone. “What?”

“The rules,” Kara waves her fork around. “Stop caring about them. They don’t matter.”

“They _do_ matter,” Lena insists, a look of shock on her face. It’s replaced by a defensive and righteous frown. “The whole point of the rules is to ensure _this_ doesn’t go too far.”

“It won’t,” Kara says. “Look, the whole point of the rules is to prevent anyone from catching feelings, right?”

Lena gives a firm nod. “Exactly.”

“So, that’s the only one that matters,” Kara points out. “We already nixed the weeknight-hookups rule.”

“… Yes,” Lena admits begrudgingly.

“And Jack knows now,” Kara continues. “But we can still keep it a secret, that’s fine.”

“Alright …” Lena looks at Kara with expectant eyes.

“Personally, I don’t mind spending the night,” Kara says. “I can’t fall in love with you if I’m asleep, and I sleep like a bear in winter.”

Lena’s neck flushes pink as she swallows roughly. Kara figures she must’ve swallowed some coffee the wrong way. “Point noted, but the rule stays for now,” Lena pushes back.

“Fine,” Kara shrugs and digs into the crumbs of her hashbrowns.

“As does the not-sober rule,” Lena argues.

Kara shrugs. “If you want to keep that rule, that’s going to limit a lot of the weeknight options,” she says. “No one on the team can drink twenty-four hours before practice, and forty-eight hours before a game.”

“Then—”

“—last Wednesday was a one-time thing; J’onn was so pleased with the win that he gave us off practice Thursday to rest.”

“ _This_ was once a one-time thing too,” Lena points out, giving Kara a flirty smile.

“I’m not playing, Lena,” Kara’s tone is steely and firm, and Lena squirms slightly in the booth.

“Fine, sobriety will be decided on a case-by-case basis then,” Lena compromises.

“Deal,” Kara nods. “And ‘no feelings’ stays—”

“—same as always,” Lena agrees.

“Okay, good,” Kara squares her shoulders in relief. For a minute, she thought Lena was going to try and end things over such a small thing as Jack discovering their secret, and she couldn’t have that. Not over something so insignificant.

“So …” Lena gives Kara a careful look. “What does that make _this_ then?”

“ _This?”_ Kara gestures around their table, then the rest of the diner. “Is just two friends grabbing a late-night bite to eat.”

“Friends?” Lena’s voice is fragile and her body stills.

“Well, yeah,” Kara watches her carefully. She doesn’t want to overstep or make Lena uncomfortable — the woman _clearly_ has issues with letting people in, not that she can talk — but she can’t think of a term to describe Lena that isn’t friendly. “You’re fun to hang out with. Friends hang out with each other.”

“I think ‘friends-with-benefits’ would be a more apt description, no?” Lena relaxes into a playful smile. 

“Friends with benefits,” Kara agrees with a grin.

“I’ll admit,” Lena says, throwing her napkin onto her empty plate. “That bacon _was_ delicious.”

Kara can’t help but chuckle internally that Lena’s used paper napkin is still somehow folded all proper-like, despite the fact this diner couldn’t be further from the Michelin Star places she must frequent. 

Kara grins. “Right?! I told you Bob’s Diner is the best place to go for late-night breakfast foods.”

“Don’t get too smug, Danvers,” Lena shakes her head. “This isn’t going to become a habit.”

“We’ll see,” Kara offers. 

Kara is silent to the soul, but she has a feeling this won’t be the last time she sees Lena Luthor here. Her raven hair is draped over her neck to hide the flush of a few fresh hickeys, a beautiful contrast to the neon pink lights that kiss her skin. A string of silver piercings trace the smooth curve of her ear. Green eyes twinkle back at Kara; the perfect, red lips below curved into a sweet, gentle smile. She looks like a new-age angel.

It’s a hopeful feeling.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just gotta say, I am absolutely floored by all the positive responses I've gotten about this story recently. I'm so honored by all the interest and support, so thank you all so much. This fic keeps getting longer and longer the more excited I get about it -- and that's thanks to you all. Stay posted for more.


	7. fall into the warmth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lena Luthor likes ‘em hot and dumb. Poor decisions are made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are so incredible, I honestly can't find the words to express my gratitude for the support this fic has garnered. An early update since I'm all excited (and also procrastinating doing the work I need to do) ... I hope you continue to enjoy it!

* * *

Kara Danvers is a smart person.

Lena knows this; she’s proven it time and time again. She really _does_ believe it.

But considering they’re both currently soaking wet and freezing cold — because _someone_ thought they would be able to walk back to Lena’s place before the rain started (spoiler alert: they made it about three minutes in before the sky opened down onto them) — it’s taking every fiber of Lena’s being not to call Kara an idiot.

It also brings a painful new validity to Kara’s taunt that Lena Luthor does, in fact, like ‘em hot and dumb.

“Okay, so I know this isn’t ideal,” Kara tells her. They’re currently squeezed under a tiny awning on the sidewalk as the rain pours down around them, chests pressing up against each other to make the most of the limited dry space. It’s a small mercy that the sub shop they’re in front of is closed.

“You think?” Lena hisses. She can only imagine she looks like the world’s most expensive drowned rat right now — hair slicked back and dripping onto her soaked designer dress, with her once-flawless mascara running down her cheeks. Her poor heels are definitely ruined too.

“I thought we could make it!” Kara holds up her hands in defense. “I don’t control the weather!”

“No, but you could’ve ordered a ride-share,” Lena says.

“Yeah but it was at least a forty minute wait,” Kara says. “And I couldn’t wait that long — you look so hot in that dress.”

“Well I _did_ ,” Lena glares at her.

“You still do.” Kara gives her a gentle smile. It’s the rain that makes people melt, right?

“Had you considered the weather was the reason for the queue?” Lena asks, trying and failing to keep her voice as patient as possible.

Kara’s smile falters. “Oh … that would make sense.”

“It would,” Lena says with some mirth. “It’s alright. What do you suggest we do now?”

Kara gives her a hesitant look. “I have an idea but I’m not sure you’re gonna go for it.”

Lena raises an eyebrow, wondering what it could possibly be.

“My apartment is only a few blocks away, that way,” Kara points down the street corner. “We could make it back there pretty quickly. Plus, we’re already wet so it’s not like we can get any wetter.”

“What about Alex?” Lena asks. That’s the first glaring hole in the plan.

“I’ll text her and ask her to go to Maggie’s,” Kara says. “That’ll mean she won’t walk in on us, but she’ll know I had someone over.”

“Will you …” Lena trails off, not exactly sure how to phrase her question without sounding like a huge hypocrite after Jack.

“I won’t tell her who it is,” Kara reads her mind. “I promise.”

“Very well,” Lena nods with acceptance. There are other unresolved details to manage — namely her lack of dry clothes — but she's freezing and can figure out the rest as she goes. “Considering that’s the best plan we’ve got, let’s do it.”

While Kara sends her sister a brief message, Lena looks out over the street; it’s still pouring torrentially. The water droplets refract the various traffic and car lights, making it rain tiny multi-colored beams of light. It’s pretty in a way — or it would be if she was warm and dry. 

Lena gives an involuntary shiver.

“Ready,” Kara says, looking up. She sucks her breath in sharply. “Wait.”

“What?” Lena turns to face her.

“You just shivered,” Kara says. “Are you cold?” She starts to peel off her jacket at the shoulders.

“… Yes,” Lena confirms, albeit begrudgingly. “Aren’t you?”

“I mean, a little,” Kara shrugs. “But I run hot. Here.” Before Lena can really process what’s happening, Kara’s draped her jean jacket over her shoulders. It’s not nearly as wet as Lena expected, likely buffered by the thick lining inside — and it’s _warm_. Lena’s no stranger to Kara’s body heat, but it’s different outside the privacy of her bed. It’s oddly intimate to feel it as a separate entity. 

And the jacket _smells_ like her.

Lena takes a slow, gentle whiff so that Kara can’t hear her do it. Sure, it smells a bit like beer from Al’s, and a bit like rainwater from their current predicament, but underneath that noise there’s a sweet musk -- not quite metallic, not quite minty, not quite fruity, but undeniably _Kara_.

“Better?” Kara pulls Lena from her haze.

“Yes,” Lena says quietly. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Kara smiles. “And don’t worry if it gets wet — _wetter_ , I guess — that jacket has been through _way_ worse.”

“Okay,” Lena nods.

“Ready to run for it?” Kara grins. She doesn’t wait for a response before darting out across the street.

“Kara, I’m wearing heels!” Lena yells after her, feeling the sudden cold and pressure of the rain on her face again. With the additional warmth of Kara’s jacket around her, it’s not nearly as unpleasant this time.

“Oh, sorry!” Kara skids to a halt, waiting for Lena to catch up. She quickly grabs Lena’s hand and tears off again, laughing and yelping as the rain continues to batter down on them. The running doesn’t last long, as it only seems to make them even wetter, so they surrender to their fates and walk the rest of the way.

“Oh my god,” Kara pants in the hallway of her apartment. “I feel like I just went for a swim.”

“We might as well have.” Lena slips off her heels to inspect them. As expected, the poor things are soaked and stained.

“Come on,” Kara waves her through the open door of her apartment, taking back her soaked jacket from Lena. “Let’s get warm and dry.”

Lena’s been inside Kara’s apartment once before, but it looks different at night. Smaller, but not in a cramped way; it’s more intimate. The lack of sunlight streaming in through the windows provides a sense of privacy while the imperfections of the brightly-colored, mismatched furniture get hidden. There’s a different candle on almost every flat surface. A few dishes are piled in the sink, and a rogue basketball rest on the couch. Obviously, Lena can't tell what belongs to which Danvers’ sister, but it all feels very … Kara.

“Lena?” Kara calls. “Sorry but can you strip? Alex and I don’t have a mop and it’ll take a lot of towels to clean up all the water we’re about to drip through the place.”

“Oh, of course,” Lena says, looking down at her soaked self. Her dress was taut to begin with but it’s turned vacuum-tight under the seal of the water.

“Do you need help?” Kara offers, clearly having picked up on Lena’s predicament. She’s practically naked already — her damp sports bra and boxers leave little to the imagination — and what Lena _can_ see already has her biting her bottom lip.

“I trust you know what to do,” Lena states, turning her back to Kara and pulling her hair forward and away.

Kara’s fingers give the zipper a smooth but firm tug downward. “This isn’t the first dress I’ve taken off you, Luthor.”

Oh, right.

“Try to not damage this one, darling,” Lena teases.

“I had permission,” Kara murmurs.

Kara peels her out of the dress in no time. The discarded clothes get thrown into a bucket near the washing machine.

Lena turns around just in time to see the tip of a pink tongue wet Kara’s lower lip. Her eyes are riveted on the full curves of Lena's chest. She doesn’t move for a solid minute; she just holds Lena still by the hips. The heat of Kara’s gentle stare is so intense, Lena could swear she could melt steel.

“My eyes are up here, Danvers,” Lena taunts. She knows what she looks like, but it’s always a moment of odd vulnerability to see it reflected in Kara’s eyes.

“I know.” Kara’s eyes find Lena’s immediately, a blue so saturated and deep she could fall right in. It throws Lena’s heart right up into her throat and she needs to regain control _now_.

Lena doesn’t dare break eye contact. 

“Do you have a shower in this doghouse, Danvers?” Lena asks, a playful lilt to her voice. “I’m a bit … _wet_.”

“I can tell,” Kara matches her tone, but in an octave deeper. “And yes, we do.”

“Will you show me, _Supergirl_ _?”_

That does the trick to get them both in the shower.

Kara looks damn good on her knees, water streaming down her body, her mouth pressed between Lena’s legs. When Lena gets close, they shift so one of her thighs is thrown over Kara’s shoulder, and the blonde’s hand clutches it while the other hand pumps in and out of Lena.

“Fuck, Kara,” she gasps, coming hard.

Lena decides shower sex is one of her new favorite things. They’ll have to try it in her more expansive one next time — she does her best work with space to breathe. Not that Kara wouldn’t take her breath away anyways.

They switch positions so Lena can bring Kara to her own orgasm. She can’t remember the last time she legitimately kneeled for someone, but right now she doesn’t mind. Kara’s absolutely unraveled above her, gasping for air, one hand so tight against the shower railing it threatens to snap off.

“I hope you know,” Kara smiles down at her. “I’m making us walk home in the rain next time.”

Lena stops all motion and Kara quickly says, “Nope, no, no I won’t.”

Lena resumes her task, grinning after Kara comes into her mouth.

“Don’t forget who’s in charge here, Danvers,” Lena stands, giving the blonde a wink.

“As if you’d let me forget.”

They actually wash up after that. Lena finds out that Kara’s body wash smells like mint and green tea. Lena likes it — which is a good thing, considering she smells the same now too.

Kara hops out of the shower first. 

She holds out a bright yellow towel when Lena's ready for it. “Here.”

“Thanks,” Lena says. She takes it and quickly wraps it around her body, grateful to finally be dry again.

“Comb and make-up wipes are in the top drawer,” Kara points at the vanity. “Extra deodorant is below the sink; the red ones are mine. I’ll go find some clothes for you. Come to my room when you’re done.”

Lena nods. It doesn’t take her too long to remove her water-smeared make-up and comb the knots out of her hair. She’s perfected the art of looking perfect on a tight schedule, after all. When she skirts her way into Kara’s room, the other woman is already wearing a t-shirt and pajama pants, lounging on the bed.

“Here,” Kara says for the second time that night, holding out baggy red boxers and a sky-blue t-shirt. Lena tosses them on gratefully; the t-shirt is a bit oversized on her, and it has Kara’s surname and jersey number emblazoned on the back.

“I don’t think I’ve ever worn boxers before,” Lena gives the fabric a wondrous tug. It’s very breezy.

“Do you want something else?” Kara asks, looking concerned. “I have sweatpants too.”

“No, these are great,” Lena assures. “Thank you.” She goes to rub one foot against the other, only to meet a stinging sensation.

“Ah, fuck,” Lena hisses. Now that the euphoria of the night (and perhaps the alcohol too) has run out, she’s suddenly aware of the fierce blisters across the back of her ankles and the tops of her feet. 

_Never run in wet heels, Luthor_ , she chides.

“Oh, shit,” Kara winces, looking down at Lena’s angry, red feet. “That looks painful.”

“I’m used to it,” Lena brushes off. “I’m no stranger to the consequences of wearing heels.” Lillian’s had her in those damn shoes since she was a young teenager — she can handle yet another round of blisters.

“Sit down,” Kara orders, standing and gesturing to the bed. “I’ll be right back with band-aids.”

Lena sits down on the edge of the mattress — only because her feet are hurting, not at all because it’s hot when Kara gets firm — and waits for the blonde to return.

“Is Star Wars okay?” Kara’s voice yells through the apartment. “Otherwise I can steal some of Alex’s boring plain ones.”

“Star Wars is fine,” Lena projects, a hint of laughter in her voice. _Of course_ Kara uses themed ones.

Kara pops into the doorframe with a smile, holding a fistful of band-aids. “Star Wars it is. Do you like the movies?”

“I do, actually.”

“Me too!”

It doesn’t take long to bandage up the blisters on Lena’s feet. She insists on doing it herself — much to Kara’s exasperation.

“There’s nothing wrong with letting people help you,” Kara sighs, hands on her hips.

“I’m perfectly capable of doing this myself,” Lena objects. 

“Alright, fine, Luthor,” Kara says. “Suit yourself.”

Without further adieu, Kara plops down on the bed with a pleasurable moan. She’s lying fully prone, and effectively trapping Lena in too. When Lena gives her an annoyed look — she really should be going — Kara already has her defenses ready.

“Lena, you’re fine,” Kara says. “You're not obligated to stay any longer than you want to, but at least give your feet a few moments to recover.”

Her feet give a pulse of pain, as if on cue. “Fine,” Lena agrees.

“Good,” Kara smiles. “You’ve got to take care of yourself, you know.”

“I know,” Lena mumbles. It’s a statement she’s heard before, but the times are usually few and far between. It seems almost second nature for Kara to say though. “If you’re going to quarantine me here for the next few minutes, you could at least keep me entertained.”

“Oh, _however_ will I do that …?” Kara gives her a devious smile, already leaning in for a kiss.

* * *

Lena stays longer than Kara would’ve ever expected. As every minute passes, it becomes a slow progression into the inevitable.

Their impromptu round two — featuring Kara’s rather big toy (yes, that one, that Kara had accidentally mentioned the first night _this_ happened) — means that they both find themselves naked together again, this time in the bed.

“Well, if I couldn’t walk before, with my feet …” Lena muses. “I doubt I can walk normally now.”

“Hey, you asked to be railed,” Kara points out, her chest puffing out slightly.

“So I did,” Lena rolls her eyes. “And you were _so_ eager to obey.”

“I aim to please,” Kara gives her a goofy smile to hide the lust in her eyes. She’d do just about anything a naked Lena Luthor asked, but the woman in question doesn’t need to know about the depths of that particular power.

Lena lets out a shiver. Kara notices her hair is still wet and they’ve made the duvet fairly damp as well. 

“It’s a bit cold in here,” Lena mumbles.

“Oh, sorry about that!” Kara panics. “Alex and I don’t turn the heat on, it keeps the power bill down.”

Lena frowns. “What do you do to stay warm?” She looks truly baffled by Kara’s admission.

“Blankets!” Kara grins. “Here, get under the covers, it’ll help.” 

They both slide between the layers of Kara’s bedsheets. Kara’s under in an instant but Lena takes her sweet time, as if she’s sleeping in a bed for the first time. Once she’s settled, Kara quickly unfolds one of the blankets at the foot of the bed and throws it over them. The sheets are cold initially but it doesn’t take long for them to heat up, between Lena’s and Kara’s (mostly Kara’s) body heat creating a pocket of warm air.

“Better?” Kara asks.

“Better, actually,” Lena nods, looking more relaxed. The weight of the blanket over them is soothing; it’s one of the reasons Kara loves to use them.

Well … now what?

Kara turns her neck to look at Lena, who’s currently curled on her side towards the blonde. 

“What’s your favorite movie?” Kara asks.

“My favorite movie?” Lena’s head jerks back slightly. “I’m not telling you, Danvers.”

“Why not?” Kara frowns. “It’s just a movie!”

“No,” Lena says. “It’s pillow talk.”

“It’s not pillow talk,” Kara insists. “Pillow talk is all cute and lovey and stuff. This is just a movie title.”

Lena hums a disbelieving tone.

“My favorite movie is the _Wizard of Oz_ ,” Kara says, eying Lena expectantly.

“A musical?” Lena scoffs. “What kind of jock are you?”

“Hey, musicals are great!” Kara defends. “The singing, the dancing … Don’t laugh! Okay, you know what Luthor?” Kara quickly slides over top of Lena, using her body weight to smother the woman slightly so she’s forced to stop laughing.

“Not … fair,” Lena gasps, partially winded from Kara’s heft and partially still laughing. She shoves one hand against Kara’s shoulders and Kara rolls back off her.

“What’s your favorite movie then?” Kara nods her chin up at Lena.

“I’m still not telling you,” Lena says.

“Why not?” Kara gives her a severe pout. “I just told you mine!”

“I didn’t ask for it,” Lena points out. “You volunteered it.”

Kara frowns. “If I guess it, will you tell me?”

“You can try,” Lena concedes.

“Is it sci-fi?”

“A good genre, but no,” Lena says.

“Rom-com?”

“Absolutely not,” Lena belittles.

“There’s nothing wrong with a good rom-com, Lena!” Kara exclaims. “I love them.”

“You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you, Supergirl?” Lena smirks. “Here I thought you just watched basketball games on repeat.”

(Kara _is_ definitely guilty of spending hours upon hours combing over game footage with Lucy — to the point Alex will sometimes have to unplug the TV to get them to stop — but Lena doesn’t need to know that.)

“Don’t tell me it’s horror?” Kara winces.

“No. You’re safe for now, Danvers.”

“What is it then?” Kara pesters. Experience with Alex has shown her if she can maintain the pout and keep talking for long enough, Lena should break — it’s a marathon, not a sprint, to get a stubborn woman to change her mind, after all.

“No! Absolutely not.”

“Lena, tell me, please,” Kara begs. “Otherwise I’m going to keep you up all night until I get it right.”

Lena gives her the most unimpressed look. “You know I can leave at any time, right?” 

Truthfully, Kara is a bit surprised she hasn’t left already, but she’s not complaining. Kara’s never really enjoyed being alone at night, and with Alex shacked up at Maggie’s all the time … it’s nice to have company.

“Mercy is a virtue, Lena,” Kara chides.

“It’s patience,” Lena says. “Not mercy.”

“Why won’t you tell me?” Kara asks, reverting back to her dependable, earnest charm. “You aren’t embarrassed about it, are you?”

Lena’s silence is the only answer she needs.

“Lena, whatever your favorite movie is, it’s okay. You have incredible taste, so it can’t be that bad,” Kara assures. “I won’t tease you about it. I promise.”

“It’s … _Titanic_.”

“I love that movie!” Kara smiles, rolling onto her forearms to look Lena in the face. The other woman looks somewhere between ready to sink into Kara’s mattress or dash out the front door. 

“It’s a great movie,” Kara says, “Though don’t even get me _started_ on the door …”

“No … no!” Lena blushes, bringing a hand up to cover her face. Her eyes still peek out at Kara though, full of tentative vulnerability. “Lex used to mock me relentlessly every time I watched it.”

“Well, he’s stupid,” Kara says with the same inflection of an annoyed seven-year-old.

Lena chuckles. “I don’t think I’ve heard anyone call Lex Luthor, boy genius, ‘stupid’ before.”

“Well, as far as Luthor geniuses go,” Kara says. “I’d put my money on you any day.”

A blotch of pink appears across Lena’s cheeks.

“In hindsight, that painting scene was definitely part of my gay awakening,” Lena muses. 

Kara nods sympathetically.

“What about you, Danvers?” Lena smiles softly. “What was your bi awakening?”

“Oh, well that’s a long story …” Kara lets out a slow puff of air, flopping down onto her back. “Her name was Indigo and she was _the worst_ …”

“I’ve got time,” Lena says, pulling Kara’s sheet over her bare shoulder.

“Okay,” Kara chuckles. “But buckle up, Luthor, it’s a wild ride.”

“Do your damndest, Danvers,” Lena mumbles, her face pressed halfway into Kara’s pillow. It’s funny — she looks more comfortable here than Kara’s ever seen her in her own bed, soul laid bare in the tranquility of the very early morning.

Lena’s asleep by the end of the hour.

Once she realizes, Kara stops talking and sucks gently on her lower lip. She should wake Lena up, right, and tell her it’s time to go? That’s certainly what the Luthor would want. Yet, Kara can feel every bone in her body screaming at her to not disturb the other woman. She looks so young and vulnerable when she’s asleep, and Kara can feel a hand clutch her heart.

Lena’s morning wrath be damned — Kara decides to leave her to sleep. She’s able to slip out of the bed without waking Lena, and closes the door silently behind her to go wash up. Afterwards, she plops down on her favorite couch, shoves a throw pillow under her head, and yanks one of Alex’s blankets down over herself.

She feels happy in the gentle silence, idle thoughts drifting through her head.

_Lena Luthor’s favorite movie is Titanic, the angsty sap._

It's the last thing Kara remembers — an amused grin plastered across her face — before falling asleep within the shrouded darkness of her living room.

* * *

Lena wakes up to sunlight streaming directly onto her poor eyes. A _lot_ of it. Since when did her bedroom get so bright? Did she forget to pull the curtains closed?

Lena reaches a haphazard hand over towards her nightstand, only for her knuckles to knock hard against a wall.

Ow! What the fuck?

She sits up and blinks her eyes a few times to bring everything into focus. There's a pleasant soreness between her legs, but her contacts might as well be sandpaper against her eyeballs.

She sees a cheap fake-wood door, warm beige walls, and blue linen sheets. There’s another bed against the opposing wall, covered in a grey blanket and a few black clothing items. Lena’s phone has been carefully plugged into the bedside charger and set on the dresser nearby.

Where the hell is she?

The NCU Comets Basketball poster at the foot of the bed winks at her.

Oh, no.

She knows _exactly_ where she is.

Lena darts out of bed, swaying slightly as the blood rushes out of her skull. Kara’s not in either bed, but the distant smell of pancakes wafts under the door — she’s definitely here.

There’s a discarded t-shirt on the floor that Lena recognizes as the one Kara gave her last night, post-shower. She quickly tosses it on. It falls low enough on her legs that she doesn’t need to concern herself with pants for now.

“Kara?” Lena calls out, squinting into the bright sunlit apartment.

“Yeah?” Kara replies from the kitchen. As Lena rounds the corner, she can see Kara standing in the kitchen, a large bowl in one hand and a whisk in the other.

“ _What am I doing here?"_ Lena demands, walking closer. She wants Kara to be able to feel the searing flame in her eyes.

“Uh, standing?” Kara’s forehead crinkles. “Breathing? What?”

“ _Why_ did I wake up in your apartment?” Lena seethes.

Kara sets the bowl down, a look of concern etched into her face. “Wait, Lena, do you not remember last night? I didn’t realize you were that drunk, I’m so—”

“—you’re fine, I wasn’t that drunk,” Lena cuts her off.

Kara nods. “I’m confused.”

“Why didn’t you wake me up, Kara?” Lena demands. “You should’ve kicked me out the instant my eyelids started to droop.”

“No, we were having fun,” Kara makes a face. “You were tired and you fell asleep; I wasn’t going to wake you up.”

“But the rul—”

“We’re not caring about the rules so much,” Kara reminds her sharply. “And technically, that rule was already broken.”

Lena brings a hand up to rub at her forehead, trying to soothe the impending headache.

“Lena,” Kara puts her hands on her hips and fixes the woman with an exasperated look. “You were _asleep_. Did you magically wake up with feelings for me?”

Feelings for Kara? Lena glances up at the woman. Sure, she looks cute in the mornings, with her hair thrown up in a quick bun, joggers and sports bra tight to her frame, and the sun practically twinkling in her eyes. But that’s just an observation, not a feeling.

“No,” Lena replies.

“See?” Kara sighs. “You’re fine. We didn’t even sleep in the same bed.”

Lena’s brow furrows. “Wait, we didn’t? But … I woke up in your bed.”

“Yeah,” Kara confirms. “I slept on the couch.”

Lena’s look of confusion shifts to mortification. “Kara, no! That’s the second time you’ve had to—”

Kara cuts her off with a wave of her hand. “Lena, it’s fine! I _chose_ to let you stay asleep and I _chose_ to sleep on the couch. Besides, I could’ve slept in Alex’s bed if I wanted to … though, I don’t know the last time she changed her sheets.” Kara wrinkles her nose.

Lena takes a deep breath to steady herself. Kara’s right, nothing terrible happened, she didn’t wake up magically in love with Kara Danvers — everything is fine.

“Are you good now?” Kara eyes her warily. “Do you need a minute?”

“I’m alright,” Lena says. “Though I could use some clothes. Do you know where my dress might be?”

Kara chuckles. “Lena, you can’t put that back on.” When Lena starts to object, Kara cuts her off and begins to count on her fingers.

“One, it’s definitely still wet,” Kara lists. “Two, not even you could make a black cocktail dress look normal for nine-in-the-morning. And three, there’s no way I’m going to let you walk-of-shame out of here wearing that.”

“But—”

“—nope,” Kara says. “It’s happening, deal with it.”

It’s a tough pill for Lena to swallow, but she does actually concede to Kara’s logic, having no desire to — as Kara put it — ‘walk-of-shame’ her way out of the Danvers’ apartment dressed like Lillian’s worst PR nightmare.

Kara rummages through her drawers, eventually tossing Lena a Comets’ sweatshirt and a pair of black joggers.

“Wait, Kara,” Lena frowns, holding up the joggers. “I can’t wear these with my heels.”

“Oh,” Kara bites her lower lip in thought. “Hold on, I have plenty of extra shoes.” She drops on all fours and shoves an arm under the bed, swiping around haphazardly until her hands hit something and she retracts.

“Wear those,” Kara says, pointing to a pair of once-white athletic fashion shoes at her feet. “The team gets a free pair of shoes like every month. I have so many now, I haven't worn those in years.”

Lena Luthor has _never_ worn fashion sneakers — the very concept is an oxymoron. Though, no time like the (desperate) present, right?

“Thank you,” Lena swallows.

“No problem. I’ll leave you to change then,” Kara says quickly.

Lena swiftly throws on the clothes. They’re a bit baggy on her and the cotton feels foreign against her skin, but she has to admit they’re much more comfortable than squeezing back into a damp, tight dress. And they smell delightfully like Kara.

“You look good,” Kara greets her with a big smile, holding a spatula up in the air. There’s a smidge of batter across her forehead.

“I might as well shout ‘I’m fucking Kara Danvers’ from the rooftop, don’t you think?” Lena muses, gesturing down at the completed ensemble. 

She’s clad in an amalgam of black, white, and sky blue. It’s a small mercy that the sweatshirt doesn’t have anything more recognizable than ‘Comets Basketball’ on it, considering the t-shirt underneath has a large ‘Danvers’ and ‘11’ across the back. Though the ‘11’ embroidered into the jogger pocket is too low to be obscured by the sweatshirt hem.

“Nah,” Kara scoffs playfully, “You just look like my number-one fan. Oh! You could join my fan club.”

Lena hums. “Is that so? You have batter on your face, by the way.” She gestures to her own forehead.

“Shit,” Kara mumbles, wiping the back of her hand across her forehead. It only smears more. “That always happens.”

Lena can't help it as a small giggle escapes. Kara looks pleased with herself.

“I already set an extra toothbrush and make-up wipes out in the bathroom,” Kara says. “Do you need anything else?”

“I don’t suppose you have any contact solution?” Lena asks.

“Sure do,” Kara smiles. “It’s in the bathroom medicine cabinet.”

“Thank you.” Lena nods, heading for the room in question. Sure enough, there’s a packet of makeup wipes and a fresh, baby blue towel on the edge of the sink vanity, topped with a still-packaged toothbrush — definitely a freebie from the dentist.

“Oh my god,” Lena whispers to herself, staring into the mirror.

Her lipstick is all but gone, and there’s a black ring around each eye — a bit of residual mascara that survived both the rain and the shower yesterday. She looks ridiculous with Kara’s clothes hanging off her body.

“Good going, Luthor,” she tells herself, voice laden with sarcasm.

She can’t remember the last time she slept in someone else’s bed. She always made Jack come over to her place when they were dating, and they _really_ didn’t spend a lot of time around a bed anyways. The last time would have to have been with Sam, many months ago. Lena doesn’t know how to feel about that realization — it feels almost like a previous lifetime.

Lena splashes some cold water on her face to spur her to get washed up and ready to face the day. She stays in the bathroom for what is probably a suspiciously-long time, not leaving until her ride-share is less than five minutes away.

When she re-surfaces, Kara is standing in the kitchen shoveling breakfast into her face at an impressive pace.

“I made blueberry pancakes,” Kara smiles. “Do you want some?”

Despite the grumbling hollow that’s replaced her stomach, Lena shakes her head. “No, that’s alright, I’m supposed to grab brunch with Jack,” she lies.

“Okay,” Kara nods, the corners of her smile faltering just the tiniest bit. “Probably for the best — I made them with protein powder and Alex always complains they’re too gritty that way.”

“Protein-powder pancakes?” Lena raises an eyebrow.

“What?” Kara defends. “They’re delicious!” To prove her point, she shoves a large fork-full of the food in question into her mouth.

Lena stifles a giggle as her cheeks puff out like a chipmunk.

“Thank you again for the clothes,” Lena says, running a hand down the unfamiliar cotton of Kara’s sweatshirt over her stomach. “Shall I have them returned tomorrow?”

“No problem,” she says. “And don’t bother, I can just pick them up next time I’m over.”

Lena nods; the logic is fair. “Very well. I should get going — looks like my ride's here.”

Kara shifts out from behind the small kitchen table to hold the door open for Lena, handing her a plastic bag full of something black and semi-fluid. “Your stuff,” Kara explains.

“Thank you. ‘til next time, darling,” Lena presses a farewell kiss to Kara’s cheek. For once, there’s no trace of lipstick left behind.

“Bye, Lena,” Kara smiles after her.

The door shuts behind Lena with a gentle finality. So that happened. She, Lena Luthor, had just spent the night at Kara Danvers’ apartment. And even more disorienting and discordant — she was kind of alright with it? … Maybe.

Still trying to wrap her head around everything, Lena shoots a quick text to Jack. She needs someone to unpack this with.

_Emergency brunch, 11:00 today, Cafe Apolline._

**_Jack Spheer:_ ** _Your wish is my command …_

**_Jack Spheer:_ ** _Fun night? ;)_

Lena doesn’t dignify that with a response.

. . . . . . . .

_Her talk with Jack helped._

_Despite the annoying, smug look on his face that made Lena want to throw her plate at him, he offered a good perspective._

_“So you slept over,” Jack said, waving his butter knife in a circle. “Did the world end?”_

_“No, obviously not,” Lena scoffed. “And why is that always the go-to scenario?”_

_Jack rolled his eyes. “Well, what is the worst-case scenario?”_

_“Feelings, obviously,” Lena stated._

_“Feelings?” Jack gave her a look. “Lena, this is the first time you’ve shown even a remote interest in someone since Sam. Feelings wouldn’t be a bad thing.”_

_“I do not — and never will — have feelings for Kara Danvers,” Lena hissed. “She’s arrogant, and foolish, and—“_

_“—hot,” Jack added with a grin._

_“That’s besides the point,” Lena glowered._

_“Then what is the point?” Jack leaned forward in his chair. “Because to me, all I see is you stressing out over small, insignificant details, worried they’ll somehow cause you to ruin your own life.”_

_That’s … fair._

_“Look, are you enjoying yourself?” Jack asked patiently._

_“... Yes,” Lena admitted._

_“Then great!” Jack smiled. “Keep doing what you’re doing — let yourself have fun with Kara. You’re the only person I know who gets stressed because they are getting laid. Relax a little and just enjoy it. You can always call it off later.”_

_Lena took a few deep breaths while mulling over his words. She didn’t move a muscle nor spare Jack from her glare, which made the man shift a little in his chair, much to her amusement._

_“Thank you, Jack,” Lena conceded with a nod._

_“Anytime, love,” Jack winked, raising his mimosa in salute._

* * *

The rest of the month passes fairly quickly. 

Schoolwork keeps them both busy. Basketball season really starts to pick up, which means Kara and the rest of the team are traveling more. She’s gone for a couple days at a time, but each night that they return to National City, she heads straight for Lena’s bed and they celebrate the Comets’ winning streak in the most fun way possible.

Kara’s happy with how things are going. It’s a great stress reliever, and Lena’s fun to be around. (The other woman has also grown to enjoy their weeknight rendezvous, in her own reserved way.) Lena doesn’t mind that Kara’s sober and always excitedly recaps the events of that day’s game. Kara doesn’t mind if Lena has a glass of wine or two, even if she can’t partake herself — though given the amount of time Kara’s tongue spends in Lena’s mouth, she must get a small dose of something.

Friends-with-benefits works for them. It turns into a smooth, enjoyable rhythm.

And then winter comes.

Thanksgiving isn’t bad. Kara enjoys the short break from class, surrounded by friends and family and basketball, but a small part of her misses her uninterrupted time with Lena. They haven’t met up in a week or so. 

A text message tells her Lena misses her too — well, parts of her anyways.

**_hot girl bummer:_ ** _Come over tonight? Jack and I are having dinner but I can always kick him out when it gets late._

_can’t … Eliza came to visit! we’re having Thanksgiving dinner tonight_

**_hot girl bummer:_ ** _Eliza?_

_alex’s and my mom_

**_hot girl bummer:_ ** _Oh, of course. It must be nice to see her._

_it is! we have a big tournament the next few days so she’ll get to watch a bunch of our games in person too_

**_hot girl bummer:_ ** _Is she usually unable to?_

_midvale is a three hour drive away, so she can only see our saturday ones with her (busy) work schedule_

**_hot girl bummer:_ ** _Understandable. I’ll stop commandeering your time then._

_you’re good, i’m enjoying the—_

“Kara!” Eliza chides. “Come eat. The food is ready!”

Kara quickly finishes the half-written text.

_you’re good, i was enjoying the company. gotta go eat! see you soon enough, luthor_

**_hot girl bummer:_ ** _Have a pleasant time with your family, Kara._

Kara stashes her phone in the pocket of her dress and joins the rest of her makeshift-family at the table. Calling it a ‘table’ is rather generous — it’s the beer-soaked, plastic, folding, pong table from the boys’ apartment, hastily covered with a cheap brown tablecloth. Mike did make a noble attempt to get a vase of sunflowers to try and class it up a bit, but it doesn’t quite measure up. 

Thankfully, the table gets covered with a myriad of plates and dishes and it’s original use is long disguised. Eliza, being the excellent chef she is, has made a full five-course, Danvers’-family-classic Thanksgiving meal. And like bears to honey, the college students have all come to feast. 

Kara sits down between Mike and James. Alex is directly opposite her, Maggie to her left and Eliza heading up the table to her right. At the other end of the table sits Nia and Brainy, with Winn to Brainy’s right, and James and Lucy to Nia’s left. Everyone’s here, but Kara can’t help but feel the most subtle notion that something is missing.

True to form, the basketball players have their plates piled highest — Kara’s and James’ vying for first place.

“You know, it’s not a race to finish the food, kids,” Eliza reminds.

“Sorry, Eliza,” Kara mumbles through a mouthful of stuffing. Mhmph, it’s delicious as always.

“Thank you for having us all, Danvers’,” Mike gives his usual charming grin. “And thank you very much for the meal, Eliza.”

Everyone around the table asserts a similar statement of gratitude.

“Oh, honey, of course,” Eliza says. “I know my cooking is always appreciated with this crowd.”

“Hear, hear!” Winn raises his glass, a turkey-laden fork in his other hand.

They breakout naturally into small conversations around the table as the meal progresses.

“So, Kara,” Eliza gives her a matronly look. “How are things going outside of school?”

The meaning behind her mom’s words is painfully obvious. It’s not lost on Kara that she’s not a part of the many couples lining the table, and Eliza has clearly noticed too.

“Oh, basketball is great!” Kara gives a bright smile to sell her fake confusion. “I feel like this is going to be our year again — we’re gonna get the title back.”

“I don’t doubt that, sweetie,” Eliza smiles warmly, “But there wasn’t anyone you wanted to invite tonight?”

No one at all comes to mind. 

No one at all. No one that’s slept in Kara’s bed. Definitely not a certain someone with the most enchanting green eyes Kara’s ever seen. Because that would never, ever work. The very notion of a specific dark-haired woman — perched with perfect posture, wearing half a year’s worth of Kara’s rent in designer clothing, eating a meal off a recently-converted pong table — is downright laughable.

Besides, Kara doesn’t have feelings for Lena Luthor. Friends-with-benefits don’t do holidays and families, and that’s all they are.

“Nope, no one!” Kara rambles, “I’ve been pretty busy with school and basketball and all.”

Eliza makes a tsk-ing noise. “You’re too focused on basketball, sweetie. Alex, you should really help your sister meet someone. It’s important to form interpersonal relationships.”

“Me? How is this my fault?!” Alex gives her an incredulous look. (She’s been grumpy ever since Kara confiscated her one holiday beer early in the night.)

“Yeah, Alex,” Kara turns to her with a smug smirk, excited to have the upper hand. “You really should stop shacking up with Maggie so much and help me find a date.”

Alex jerks forward in her seat. “Oh, _as if!_ Mom, if you even knew the half of what Kara does in her free time—”

“— _You_ don’t even know what I do in my free time, Alex,” Kara snaps.

“I can make a pretty good guess,” Alex threatens. “She spends all night playing with her—”

“—basketballs, that is,” Maggie puts a taming hand on Alex’s shoulder. “There’s nothing wrong with that. Right, Little Danvers?”

Ready to diffuse the once-fake-now-come-real tension, Kara takes the out. “Uh, huh. My jumper has been off a bit all season and I’ve been trying to get it back on track.”

“You work too hard, sweetie,” Eliza says, but there’s an edge to her voice that suggests it’s only a matter of time before this issue comes up again. It makes Kara want to sink through her chair. She gives Alex’s shin a kick under the table, which earns her one in return.

_Fuck you_ , Alex mouths over her glass.

Kara hides her hand with a fist on her cheek and sticks her tongue out in response.

Mike clears his throat. “Could someone pass the glazed carrots, please?”

The misdirection is enough to diffuse the tension, and by the end of the night — after a healing round of Eliza’s chocolate pecan pie for everyone — Kara has her arm around Alex’s shoulders and they’re both belting into the karaoke machine Winn hooked up to the TV.

When it gets late enough, Kara sneaks her phone out to send one last message.

_hope you and jack had a good thanksgiving! you two should watch our games this weekend_

**_hot girl bummer:_ ** _Perhaps. Play well, Supergirl._

_always ;) you know_ _they can’t box me in_

_**hot girl bummer:** So I hear._

Kara enjoys this Thanksgiving just as much as all the others. And maybe a smidge more.

* * *

The tables turn for Lena only a few days later.

Kara swings by for a quickie following a late practice, but they stay up chatting for a bit too long after, as if Kara doesn’t want to leave. Dark bags hang under her eyes, and her pupils are glazed over slightly. She looks exhausted after what Lena assumes is an endless gauntlet of basketball games and end-of-semester projects, so Lena humors her for a bit.

Once it’s been a bit silent for too long, Lena looks over her shoulder — mid-way through explaining the pharmaceutical applications of nanotech — only to find Kara knocked out against her shoulder.

She looks so fragile. Kara Danvers, gifted with an annoyingly-hot amount of strength, looks downright breakable when she sleeps.

_Leave her be, Lena_ , a voice whispers in her head. _She looks like she needs the sleep desperately._

Fine. _Fine_. The world won’t end if they sleep in the same bed, after all.

So Lena decides to let Kara sleep, though she gingerly shifts about as far away from the blonde as she can get, practically hanging off the edge of the mattress. She doesn’t know what time Kara needs to be awake in the morning, so she changes her own alarm for 5:00am to stir Kara awake then.

They both sleep well.

Lena wakes up lying on her side, one hand under her pillow, and her other hand over her waist, clutching the third hand that lies there.

Clutching the _what?_

It’s Kara’s hand — it’s definitely Kara’s hand — and it’s gently resting over Lena’s stomach, the fingertips tucked underneath her side.

And she’s holding onto it.

Apparently, they’ve both drifted inward to the center of the bed, in a way reminiscent of magnets. Lena’s bare back and ass are pressed up against Kara’s chest and pelvis. They fit annoyingly well together. And it’s _warm_.

When Lena reaches over to grab her blaring phone off of the bedside table, Kara’s arm tightens around her waist, effectively trapping her.

It makes her feel … strange.

Kara wasn’t lying about being a heavy sleeper. Despite the blasting alarm, it takes a considerable effort to wake her.

“Hngh?” Kara rolls away from Lena and murmurs into the morning air. “No, Alex, what time is it?”

“It’s me, Kara.”

Kara’s eyes fly open. “Lena? What? … where am I?”

“In my bed, darling,” Lena says with some amusement.

“Oh, shit,” she murmurs, clutching at the unfamiliar sheets wrapped around her. “Did I fall asleep? I’m sorry.”

“It’s quite alright,” Lena assures. “Now we’re even.”

“Even,” Kara gives a sleepy smile. “Lena, what time is it?”

“Five in the morning,” Lena yawns. “I wasn’t sure what time you needed to be up.”

“Oh,” Kara brings her eyebrows together. “Thanks. I don’t have anymore morning practices until next semester, but I should get up and head home.”

Lena opens her mouth to object but immediately clamps it back shut until something smarter comes out.

“Do you want me to call you a car?” she asks.

“Nah, it’s good, I’ll jog home,” Kara says. “Won’t take long — and it’ll be good to get a stretch in.”

“Are you certain?” Lena asks and Kara nods, sliding out of bed and to her feet. “Very well.”

Kara redresses with skilled ease, even in the dim light of Lena’s bedroom. Clearly, they’ve done this enough times for Kara to have memorized where to step to avoid stubbing any toes.

“Go back to bed, Lena,” Kara whispers when she notices Lena’s heavy-lidded eyes trained on her.

“Okay,” Lena yawns. She slides back between the silky layers of her bed, right over the warm spot where Kara was. It feels amazing against her skin. “Lock up on your way out.”

“Will do,” Kara replies. “Sweet dreams.”

And in the last half-lucid moments of the early morning, Lena allows herself to fall deeper back into the warmth. 

Kara’s warmth.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the scoreboard stands at:  
> 1\. No spending the night -- (broken)  
> 2\. No one can know -- (broken)  
> 3\. No sober hookups -- (broken)  
> 4\. No weeknight hookups -- (broken)  
> 5\. Absolutely no feelings  
> And we’re about to enter the half-time (winter) break ...


	8. heavy holidays

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The holidays come and they bring a heavy weight. Family dynamics come out in full force.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, this one was a bit of a long one. You guys are so incredible, truly. I am so grateful for the continued support. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Warnings: Lillian Luthor is not a good mother (or person). Vague homophobia. Some discussion of family members' deaths.

* * *

Kara has been missing-in-action for over a week now. 

She’s alive, Lena knows this, since she’s still starting and playing in every basketball game. But she’s not to be found at her favorite café — _Noonan’s_ , Lena learns, after she swings by there a few more times — either. Kara declines Lena’s nighttime invitations, and doesn’t engage in small talk either. It’s very unlike her.

And it’s driving Lena up a wall.

The last time Kara left her apartment, they were on good terms. In fact, Lena half-expected to get some cocky text about how the world didn’t end even though they slept _in the same bed_. 

But it doesn’t come.

Then Lena accidentally overhears one of Alex’s conversations on the way to their class together, and it only further confounds her.

“She’s okay,” Alex says into the phone. Her voice is soft and low to avoid drawing attention to her conversation. “She’s not sleeping great, but you know how Kara gets around this time of year.”

Alex pauses while the person on the other line speaks.

“Yeah, I’ve been staying with her every night,” Alex replies. “Yes, she’s still eating an insane amount, like usual.” Lena can practically hear Alex’s eyes roll.

Another pause.

“It was the worst on the actual anniversary date, but it’s getting better now,” Alex says. “I gotta go, Mom — class is about to start … Love you too. Bye.”

Alex shoves her phone in her back pocket and enters the building. Lena follows several steps behind her, not wanting to get caught eavesdropping.

Anniversary date? Of what? She can’t very well ask Alex. _‘Hey, what’s this anniversary, and why won’t your sister come over to fuck like usual?’_

Yeah, not an option.

The internet is no help either. Searching ‘Kara Danvers’ just pulls up a thousand basketball articles full of praise and commendation. Her NCU roster page is just a long list of all her awards and accolades — there are many, to Lena’s satisfaction (she likes a winner) — but it doesn’t hold any useful information. At the very bottom of the page under ‘Personal’ are five brief bullet points:

> _Full name is Kara El Danvers_
> 
> _Born on September 22_
> 
> _Older sister, Alex Danvers, also plays basketball for NCU_
> 
> _Older cousin, Clark Kent, plays in the NMBL for the Metropolis Meteors_
> 
> _Majoring in journalism_

In the name of investigative curiosity, Lena checks out Alex’s roster profile next. It’s long, but not quite as long as Kara’s, and the personal information section is similar.

> _Full name Alexandra Jan Danvers_
> 
> _Born on March 8_
> 
> _Daughter of Eliza and Jeremiah Danvers_
> 
> _Younger sister, Kara Danvers, also plays basketball for NCU_
> 
> _Majoring in biology_

_Huh_ , Lena realizes, _Kara’s roster doesn’t mention her parents’ like Alex’s page does_. Must be an oversight.

Lena can’t find anything else about this ‘ _anniversary’_. In fact, it seems like Kara’s life has just been full of goodness and adoration. A little bitter seed of jealousy settles in Lena’s stomach.

Eventually, she breaks down and just straight-out asks Kara what gives.

_Care to explain what’s been going on with you?_

That comes across way harsher than Lena intends, so she quickly sends another message to dull it.

_Did I do something wrong?_

**_K_ ** _: no, not at all! sorry for ghosting — going thru some family stuff_

**_K:_ ** _don’t really wanna talk about it tho, no offense_

Lena winces in concern. She’s no stranger to ‘family stuff’. Whatever that means for Kara, Lena imagines it's unpleasant — and that it likely has to do with this ‘anniversary’.

_Oh, of course, I understand. Take all the time you need._

**_K:_ ** _thanks_

**_K:_ ** _when do you leave for break?_

_The Monday after Finals Week._

**_K:_ ** _i can work with that :) gotta see you at least once to tide me over before break starts_

_Well, let’s hope you can still deliver …_

**_K:_ ** _always. ;)_

They don’t talk about it any further, but Lena can’t help but wonder how Kara’s doing — wondering what exactly she’s having to deal with. If there’s one thing Lena Luthor doesn’t handle well, it’s something she doesn’t know and hasn’t figured out. But she can (begrudgingly) recognize this isn’t her place either.

So Lena keeps up with her from a distance — through basketball. The blonde still plays well on the court, but there’s something off. She seems a bit sluggish and tired. They’re playing Gotham State tonight, and the Comets aren’t quite meshing as well as they usually do. 

At one point, Kara starts to look really frustrated, her hands on her hips and a deep frown across her face. Alex comes over to her, takes Kara’s head in her hands, and presses their foreheads together. The livestream is way too distant to pick up on what Alex says, but Lena can see the older Danvers say a few words, and Kara pulls away nodding, looking a bit refocused.

It’s not enough though — it’s the Comets’ first loss of the season.

Lena’s a bit worried, but she talks herself out of checking in on Kara. The other woman clearly didn’t want to talk about it, and Lena respects that. It’s not like they’re in the business of owing each other explanations anyways. 

Then Finals Week comes and exams quickly consume Lena’s every waking thought. Her worry is relegated to idle, night-time thoughts while falling asleep in a cold bed.

The weekend after finals, Kara shows up at her door unannounced one night, like nothing ever happened.

“Kara?” Lena exclaims in surprise, a perplexed smile creeping across her face.

“Luthor,” Kara greets, stepping into the apartment. “I brought champagne to celebrate the end of finals.”

“How are you?” Lena eyes her carefully.

“Horny,” Kara grins. It doesn’t quite reach her eyes, and Lena realizes for the first time that there are edges to Kara’s mask of indomitable positivity. And they’re trailing precariously along one.

“That’s not what I meant. Kara, you don’t want to talk about—” Lena frowns.

“—No, I don’t,” Kara states. It’s not intended to be harsh, but it still comes off that way, and Lena’s walls slam right back up.

“Very well,” Lena nods. “Take your clothes off. You owe me a few orgasms.”

“With pleasure,” Kara smirks, ripping her shirt off over her head.

“And do bring the champagne,” Lena orders, turning sharply on her heel to head for the bedroom.

It’s an exercise in multi-tasking. Kara takes Lena’s words to heart and drives her to four orgasms before Lena brings her to two of her own. They also polish off the whole thing of champagne at the same time, passing it back and forth to whoever’s on top, chugging it straight from the bottle. Kara spills a bit of it on Lena’s bedsheets, but it's hardly the only wet spot there. 

It all feels a bit hedonistic, yet freeing. Lena can't help but hope to celebrate the end of the next semester the same way — before quickly realizing there’s no guarantee of any of that nonsense.

_Don’t be foolish, Lena_ , she chides herself. There’s no way they make it that long. Their arrangement is precarious enough already.

Which reminds Lena — there’s another thing they need to discuss.

“Well, I think that’ll tide me over for the next few weeks,” Kara cracks a cocky grin, flopping back down on the bed. Lena’s preoccupied by combing her fingers through her recently-matted hair.

“Kara, we should talk about winter break,” Lena says. “And what it means for our arrangement.”

“What about it?” Kara asks, sitting up so they’re both at the same eye level.

“I know we’re not seeing other people right now,” Lena says. “But I figure we should clarify if that’s expected to be upheld over the next several weeks apart.”

“To be honest, I probably won’t hook up with anyone. Midvale isn’t exactly known for its large dating scene,” Kara states. “But I wouldn’t expect you to do the same. We’re not dating and you’re free to do whatever you want — just be safe.”

Lena hums, but doesn’t offer the same transparency that Kara does. She can’t bring herself to come anywhere close to admitting that she might _only_ want Kara Danvers.

But she can offer another kind of concession. “You can stay, tonight, if you want,” Lena offers. “I know it’s late.”

“Are you sure?” Kara asks, clearly sounding surprised. Lena leans over to turn off the nightstand night and slides down fully under the sheets. Her head gently settles into the heavenly cushion of her goose-down pillow.

“Yes,” Lena says. “Just stay on your side of the bed.”

Kara is silent for a moment, not moving a single muscle as she clearly contemplates her next move. Lena holds her breath.

“Okay,” Kara finally whispers. Lena can feel the weight in the bed shift as Kara lies down, and suddenly she can breathe again.

“Goodnight, Kara.” Lena rolls onto her side, her back to Kara.

“Goodnight, Lena,” Kara whispers, “Sweet dreams.”

When Lena wakes, Kara’s side of the bed is remade and any traces of her are long gone, save the neatly-folded pile of clothes Lena had borrowed after their first sleepover. Lena had forgotten to mention them, and Kara must not have noticed.

There’s a note for her on the kitchen counter; the handwriting is scratchy but Kara clearly tried to put some effort into making it legible.

_Sorry to leave without saying goodbye, had to run. Hope you have a good winter break! If you miss me too much, remember, there’s always a basketball game to watch ;) Happy Holidays!_

_\- K_

Lena frowns down at the note, a slight sense of disappointment in her chest. She had hoped for at least one more conversation with Kara before they parted ways for the break, but alas, she would be heading back to Metropolis without.

Lena is dreading it already, and now even more so. Here in National City, she has her space and her freedom (and also her new personal ray of sunshine). Back in Metropolis, the holidays were filled by extravagant obligations and miserable company. It would be just her, Lex, and Lillian — and Lex at least had places to sneak off to under the guise of being productive. Lena had no such work to cling to.

She would be counting the days until her return — twenty-five — until she was back in her apartment with her work and her peaceful silence and the soothing presence of a certain basketball player.

Until then, dread fills in the hollows of her bones. Happy holidays, indeed.

* * *

Unsure how to process her last conversation with Lena, Kara doesn’t sleep well between the slippery folds of the silk sheets. By around six in the morning she gives up trying and heads straight for the gym, hoping shooting will help clear her head.

It’s a temporary fix.

The early morning air is crisp and refreshing, and the dim light of the unopened gym is soothing against her raging mind. She gets into a rhythm of aim-jump-release but it doesn’t bring the usual mindless repetition it usually does. Her shots are all a bit too left, and her brain is consumed with thoughts about a certain green-eyed problem.

Kara had asked, and Lena’s lack of an answer had been enough. It wasn’t a set up; Kara knew she had no right to ask Lena to keep their arrangement — rendered logistically null while they were apart — exclusive. Kara had meant what she had said. They weren’t dating. 

Besides, she doesn’t care if Lena sleeps with someone else while she’s home — she _shouldn’t_ care. 

(But she kind of does … it’s just because it’s a blow to her ego, though.)

Kara decides not to tell Lena that she’ll be in Metropolis in January, to visit Clark and Lois and baby Jon. Better to not mix things — they’re fuck buddies when in National City, and no one to each other when they’re not.

By the end of Kara’s shooting session, she feels no less irritated, but it fades as the days pass and Lena Luthor leaves her orbit.

* * *

Lena’s never been so grateful to have her feet on the ground again.

She says that every time she gets off a plane, sure, but she _really does_ mean it this time. She means it every time — she hates flying.

To her relief, Lex had arranged for the Luthor family plane to come pick her up from National City and return her to Metropolis, which meant she’d get to be terrified in the privacy of her own company. It was much better than the alternative of publicly trying to stave off a panic attack on a commercial plane.

Lena quickly gets off the plane once they land. The sun is starting to set, raining orange against the light-speckled cityscape on the horizon. The tarmac is lit up too and Lena can feel the disorienting jet lag sensation set in. It shouldn’t be this late, yet it is. 

There’s a black towncar and a familiar, nicely-dressed woman off to the side, waiting for her. The driver is almost finished loading Lena’s rather abundant luggage into the trunk.

“Hello, Miss Luthor,” Jess greets her.

“Hello, Jess,” Lena replies, finally settling into the blissful release of ground under her feet and air in her lungs. “How have you been?”

“Excellent, thank you,” Jess smiles. She has a clipboard in her hands, which can mean only one thing.

“What does my mother have planned?” Lena sighs.

“I’ll brief you on the way,” Jess says. The driver, who Lena now recognizes as Mercer, pulls the door open for her.

“Thank you,” Lena tells him, and slides into the car. Jess gets in on the other side so that they can debrief in the backseat.

The car lurches forward with a start. “Are we headed back to the Manor?” Lena asks.

“Yes,” Jess nods. She presses a button on the wireless headset in her ear. “So, Mrs. Luthor has asked me to prepare an itinerary for you, for the duration of your stay.”

Lena’s stomach plummets. Goodbye, freedom.

“What is it?” Lena asks, holding out a hand to receive a copy of her prison sentence.

“As you know, the annual Luthor Corp New Year’s Gala will be held after the new year,” Jess rattles off. “Your mother scheduled a gown fitting for you tomorrow. You’re also expected at three different Luthor Corp holiday functions this week as well; the dates and times are indicated on the schedule.”

Lena sighs so deeply her bones shake. It’s what she expected, of course, but it’s not any less dreadful.

“Well then,” she says, “Let the fun begin.” Her words are soaked in sarcasm, and Jess spares an apologetic smile.

“Your brother will be excited to have you back around,” Jess offers. “You keep him in his place.”

Oh, Lex. Now that’s an interesting problem. 

They haven’t talked in-depth since October, not since the day after his party — Lena had once again expressed her displeasure in his choice to date Eve rather _explicitly_ , and Lex had been frustrated she had left so early without ‘giving things a chance’. 

Lena’s gut clenches at the thought he might still be annoyed with her, as he was the only thing that would make her next several hundred hours stuck in the ivory tower of Luthor Manor more bearable.

She worries for nothing.

She sees Lex for the first time at dinner. As soon as she’s in view, he wraps her in a gigantic hug and insists they crack open one of the nicest bottles of wine from Lionel’s extensive cellar. Lillian gives her a curt nod of acknowledgement and suggests she have a larger helping of the salad. Lex shoots Lena a pitiful glance, but she ignores it, having better things to do than manage Lex’s guilt complex — like digging into the filet mignon. Once the food is finished, however, they no longer have an excuse not to talk to each other.

(Oh, what Lena would give to be anywhere but here, trapped in the austere, desolate dining room of Luthor Manor.)

“How was your flight, Lena?” Lillian asks. She juts out a haughty chin at Lena. She looks so elegant yet fake, she could be a million-dollar mannequin. “You don’t still have that ridiculous fear, do you?”

“It was fine.” Lena turns to Lex pointedly. “Thank _you_ for sending the plane.”

Lex nods curtly, shoulders slumped forward. He leans forward to pour himself another glass of wine.

“And your studies?” Lillian continues. “How are they?”

“They’re excellent,” Lena says with a tight-lipped smile. “Certainly better than Lex’s were at my age, considering he was three months into a bender in Cabo at the time.”

“Hey, I am a genius, after all,” Lex protests. “I didn’t need to go to class.”

“I don’t think you can get class participation points if you’re passed-out, naked, on top of the resort bar,” Lena chirps.

“Fair,” Lex nods and chugs his wine.

“Ensure your grades stay that way, Lena,” Lillian replies coldly. “I expect you to make the most of your expensive education.”

“Yes, I’m sure shipping me off to Mount Helena’s was exclusively for _my_ benefit,” Lena narrows her eyes.

Both women pause as Lex loudly pours himself another glass of wine.

“You seem to be enjoying yourself,” Lillian sneers at him.

Lex blinks slowly at her, slumped down in his chair. “At least one of us here should have a little fun.”

“My understanding is that you’ve had plenty of _fun_ recently,” Lillian bites. “Two drunk-and-disorderly charges _this month?”_

“What? We’re rich; it’s not illegal for us,” Lex objects. “It’s just a trifling fee.”

“The family fortune is not for paying off your misdemeanors,” Lillian says. “And I will _not_ have you drag our family name through the mud.”

“Mother …” Lex drawls, exasperation lacing his voice. “You and Father did that long before I had a chance to.”

“Alexander!” Lillian admonishes. “Do not pretend to understand the depths of your father’s and I’s decisions. Everything we did was for the betterment of Luthor Corp and this family.”

“Yes, it’s quite a family,” Lena mumbles under her breath. She’s only spared Lillian’s wrath because Lex chooses that exact moment to bolt to his feet and yell, “Oh, everything!? Father must not have gotten that memo.”

“Enough!” Lillian snaps.

Lillian and Lex are currently glaring at each other like they’re the only people in the room, so Lena uses the commotion to excuse herself from the table and retreat up to her childhood room. They’ll be at each other’s throats for a bit longer.

The bedroom has been untouched over the past few months, save for routine visits by the cleaning staff. It’s a dour and dim space; covered in dark wooden floors, distant vaulted ceilings, and various fabrics of black and green. There are a few redeeming fixtures — a few of Lena’s old books rest on the bedside table, a chess board sits on the desk, and her fencing trophies line the grand bookcase from floor to ceiling.

It’s not enough. It makes her long for the warmth of National City, for her apartment, and the rays of sunshine that fill it.

In the distance, she can hear the yelling cease for the night.

* * *

Lena makes it a few days before she can’t handle being confined at home anymore. 

The last straw is Lillian’s undeterred insistence she accept an escort to the Luthors’ New Year Gala — someone who could benefit the family’s business contacts, of course — and Lena needs to put some fresh air between her and Lillian _now_.

That’s how she ends up at the Luthor Corp skyscraper, headed on a warpath to Lex’s office. Thankfully, it’s after five, so most of the building is vacant; though it’s still too early for the clubs to be open, so Lex is definitely here.

“You will _not_ believe Mother’s latest asinine scheme,” Lena groans, barreling through the office doors. 

Lex’s latest secretary scrambles futility after her; he must be new, as Lena has unrestricted access to Lex’s office and his labs (and also, since when does he hire male secretaries?). 

In response to her interruption, the dark leather chair rolls back from behind the computer monitors.

But it’s not Lex in the chair.

Lena’s heart catches in her throat.

It’s … _Sam_. 

Sam Arias. Her ex. A woman Lena hasn’t seen since a tearful, bitter goodbye last spring — three thousand miles away back in National City — and truthfully was never expecting to see again.

Fuck.

Lena feels her lungs collapse in her chest. Her entire body feels galvanized; for good or for bad she’s not sure.

She's still as stone.

“Lena?” Sam sounds just as shocked as Lena feels. “Uh … hi.” Sam gives her a tentative smile, her brows furrowed deeply over her eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Ms. Arias,” the secretary fawns, “Ms. Luthor was too fast for me—”

“—I was looking for Lex,” Lena states. “This is his office.”

Sam clears her throat awkwardly, rolling back slowly in the chair. 

“Thank you, Jeremy,” Sam nods at the secretary, “You can leave us.”

“What is going on?” Lena demands, turning around to inspect the space. Lex’s office has the same bones as always, but Lena quickly realizes it’s not quite right. Things are out of place, things are there that don’t belong — the flowers on the desk, the fluffy rug, the jar of Italian candies on the coffee table, and the photos of Ruby on the shelves.

Lena puts it together quickly. This is clearly not Lex’s office anymore — that explains the secretarial chase.

“Lena, did Lex not tell you?” Sam frowns, rising from the chair. She swipes her hands nervously against her pants.

Lena sets her jaw. “Tell me what?”

“Uh, Lex hired me,” Sam swallows roughly. “I’m Luthor Corp’s new Finance Director, for the Research Division. I thought he had talked to you about it.”

“No, he didn’t,” Lena says sharply. “This office is a bit above the pay grade for a Finance Director, isn’t it?”

“It was a signing bonus,” Sam explains. “Lex insisted. Besides, your mother has him traveling almost constantly now.”

“When?” Lena sucks on her teeth.

“October,” Sam exhales.

“Ah,” Lena lets out a rueful hum. “October.” 

Suddenly, the party in National City makes sense; Lex wanted to see Lena because he was feeling _guilty_ (if he can even feel that emotion). 

Lena could really use a stiff drink. As if on cue, the amber decanter in the corner of the room catches her eye, which Sam notices.

“Whiskey. Lex keeps me stocked with the good stuff,” Sam gestures over to the alcohol. “Would you like a glass? I was actually just finishing up — besides, it’s way past five o’clock.”

“… Sure,” Lena says, pulling at her fingers. “This day is not exactly going how I imagined.”

“Same here,” Sam mumbles, prepping the drinks. “Still prefer it neat?”

“If you don’t mind,” Lena replies. Her hands shake the slightest amount when she accepts the glass from Sam. Sam’s fingers linger against hers for a second too long.

“So, I hear Lillian is being her usual self?” Sam asks.

She gestures to the sofa and both women sit down. They’re sitting too close to be strangers, but also far enough away that they hold each other at a distance.

Lena swallows a large gulp of whiskey.

“Yes,” Lena sighs. “You know how she gets. She’d sooner treat me like a valuable piece of Luthor Corp stock to be bought and bargained for to better the family name — and forget any considerations of my sexuality.”

“I’m sorry,” Sam winces. “Has Lex gotten better about calling her out on it?”

“Lex has no problem shouting his head off at Lillian when she insults _him_ ,” Lena scoffs. “But caring about others is not his strong suit.”

“I do think he cares about you,” Sam levies. “Even though he’s shit at showing it.”

Lena snorts in agreement.

“Lex may care, but Lillian certainly doesn’t,” Lena muses. “I still don’t understand what I did to her to make her hate me so.”

“It’s not your fault, Lena,” Sam’s hand grabs her own.

It should make her feel something. But it doesn’t.

“How’s National City?” Sam asks, still holding on.

“It’s … incredible, actually,” Lena finds her tone to be surprisingly genuine, even to her own astonishment. “Things have been wonderful this year.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Sam says. “You did always seem … lighter, there.”

“It suits me better than Metropolis,” Lena agrees. “Though most other places would.”

A moment of silence passes; amber eyes on green.

“Lena, this is definitely out of line, but I have to know,” Sam inhales sharply, withdrawing her hand to clutch her other one in her lap. “Do you ever … think about us?”

Oh. That question.

“Yes,” Lena states, tilting her chin outwards. She keeps her face neutral as a stone.

“I still think about you too. I’m sorry for how things ended with us,” Sam confesses. “I was so overwhelmed between Ruby, and finishing my MBA, and—“

“—it’s alright, Sam,” Lena smiles softly. “I don’t blame you. I mean, we’re five years apart and in very different places in our lives. You have an incredible daughter and she deserves to be your first priority.”

“I …” Sam trails off, her eyebrows lifting. “I can admit, that wasn’t what I was expecting to hear.”

“Well, I wasn’t exactly expecting to see you today,” Lena says. “I thought I’d never see you again once you left National City.”

“Yeah,” Sam sighs, filling the room with a tense silence. “I hate that I left you, Lena, just like everyone else in your family has. I—” 

“—I don’t think of it like that,” Lena lies.

“You don’t?” Sam frowns. “But … anyways, I still should’ve told you what was going on sooner, that I was moving back to Metropolis for work. I shouldn’t have just sprung it on you at the last minute.”

“I would’ve liked to have heard it from you first,” Lena admits. “I figured it out weeks before, Sam. People don’t buy a hundred cardboard boxes without a reason.”

“I didn’t …” Sam trails off. “I didn’t realize you knew.”

Lena looks at her with a sad smile. Her eyes should be wet by now, like they were last time they talked like this, but they’re not. 

“What hurt was that you didn’t tell me yourself,” Lena says. “I deserved to know.”

“You did,” Sam grimaces. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for how badly I hurt you, I really am.”

Lena nods an acceptance. 

“Hurt aside, you taught me a lot about myself, Sam, and about love, and relationships,” Lena says. “I’m very grateful for that.”

Lena can practically see Sam’s spine straighten up again in front of her, into the proud, confident posture that once made Lena melt.

“Lena, would … would you like to grab dinner, and catch up?” Sam asks. “Ruby is with a sitter tonight. I found a great restaurant here for crepes, just like that little hole-in-the-wall place we would go to in National City.”

Lena gives a solemn smile. “That’s a tempting offer, Sam,” she says, not realizing it’s a lie until the words are out of her mouth. “But I can’t.”

_I don’t want to_ , Lena realizes with a start.

Her ex + dinner wine + ‘catching up’? It can only mean one thing — and it’s not something she wants to do with Sam anymore.

“Is there someone else?” Sam’s tone comes across as polite and neutral, but Lena knows her too well to miss the subtle note of bitterness underneath.

“In a manner of speaking,” Lena vaguely replies. 

“Oh … I understand,” Sam nods, a sad smile settling across her face. “You seem good, Lena. Confident. Happy.”

“You do too, Sam,” Lena says. “This—“, she gestures around the lavish office, “—looks good on you. You really do deserve it.”

“Thank you,” Sam nods. “You won’t find Lex here, by the way. Lillian sent him over to Midway City for a few days; he’s negotiating acquiring a new start-up.”

“Of course she did,” Lena rolls her eyes. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Happy to help.” Sam claps her hands against her thighs, looking at Lena expectantly. 

They’ve reached the natural parting point, but both linger for the smallest second, as they know there’s no going back afterwards.

“Goodbye, Sam,” Lena exhales. “Give Ruby my best.” She gives a soft smile and a nod.

“Goodbye, Lena,” Sam says, a bittersweet smile across her face.

Lena leaves without hesitation. The door to Sam’s office closes behind her with a firm finality. 

Alone in the elevator, Lena’s thoughts race wild. How could Lex not have told her? Why did he even hire _Sam_ in the first place? Did he think Lena wasn’t going to notice, or worse, care?

There's a towncar waiting for her outside. Lena tears open the backdoor and slides in before Mercer, the driver, can even react. She hops into the backseat with a huff, phone in hand, ready to shoot Lex the angriest text in existence. But she can’t hit the send button.

Truthfully, she’s not angry. Sure, it would’ve been _nice to know_ she had been about to barrel into her ex’s new office, but Lena is starting to feel oddly … calm afterwards. Her and Sam; they’re done. She doesn’t have to wonder.

Like the last ember dying in a fire, she has found resolution.

* * *

Lena doesn’t know Lex is back in town until he comes to her room late one night, a sly look on his face. She’s seen it many times before, and it’s never good. He wants something.

“Just the man I’ve wanted to see,” Lena runs a tongue over her teeth. She throws her book down onto the table and fixes him with a piercing look.

“Ah, yes,” Lex gulps, leaning against the doorframe. “So I was warned.”

“Oh, good,” Lena gives him a fake smile. “You’ve spoken to Sam then.”

“Hazard of the job,” Lex responds. “I imagine you have questions.”

“ _So many_ , Lex,” Lena sneers. “You’re a horrible brother, you know? Terribly hard to love.”

“Yet you manage. Come on,” Lex nods his head backwards, out of the room. “Fancy a trip out of the ivory tower, Lost Princess?”

“Where to?” Lena gives him a skeptical look. “Will it be chaos or catastrophe tonight?”

A grin creeps over Lex’s face. This can’t be good.

“Neither, actually. I’ve got courtside seats at the Meteors’ game tonight,” Lex says.

Oh, that’s reasonable, actually. Lex usually behaves himself at the games, as they hold his attention better than most other things.

“I’m not really one for basketball,” Lena lies, “But anything is better than being here. Are you driving?”

“Oh, absolutely not,” Lex laughs. “I’m on like day three of sporting a point-o-five BAC.”

“Lex!” Lena chides, before growing softer. “Lex. Why? Why are you doing this?”

He looks down at the floor, arms crossed, and shrugs. “Eh. Boredom. Because I can.”

Lena stands to walk closer to him.

“You know, if you’re trying to prove to the world that you can be a fun drunk, I think you achieved that already,” Lena says. “You’re in the news practically every month for doing something rowdy and reckless. It’s making Mother’s hair grey at an exponential rate.”

“Perhaps,” Lex muses.

“You’re not like our father, Lex,” Lena warns, “But you need to stop acting like him, trying to prove to the world you’re not him.”

“Have you been talking to my therapist?” Lex jokes, his classic partyboy smile plastered across his face. Lena knows it’s an act.

“ _You_ have a therapist?”

“It’s a … new development,” Lex waves a hand. “Sam insisted. She thinks it’ll help remove my head from my ass.”

“You two have gotten quite close, haven’t you?” Lena’s eyes narrow. “I’d have to be awful familiar with my boss to tell him to go to therapy and keep my job, no?”

Lex gives her a highly amused grin. “Actually, she didn’t even make it that far. She stopped about halfway through her interview for Finance Director to tear me a new asshole.”

Lena’s jaw drops and her brows follow.

“She found out I was dating Eve from the tabloids,” Lex says. Browsing the tabloids at the grocery store was always one of Sam’s guilty pleasures.

“One moment, I was interviewing her, and the next? She was scolding me for betraying you like that and invalidating your experiences,” Lex recounts.

“And you _hired_ her?” Lena has no idea how to process that information. Like literally none. “Were you drunk?”

“Completely sober,” Lex replies. “Figured if she would do that, she’d be fearless. Like a queen come to reign. Besides, I always liked her. She has grit.”

Lena opens her mouth to ask another question — she’s not exactly sure what it’ll be about yet, since her mind is still reeling — when Lex brings a hand up to silence her.

“I will answer any and all remaining questions once my ass is in my courtside seats,” Lex says. “You’ve got twenty minutes to get ready.”

“Fine,” Lena grimaces. “I suppose beggars can’t be choosers. And Lex? You still have _a lot_ of explaining to do.”

“That’s the spirit, sis!” Lex wrinkles his nose in excitement, choosing to completely ignore the second half of her words.

And that’s how Lena ends up wedged between a moderately-drunk, manspreading Lex and a steroided-out Finch (Lex’s head of security), watching the cousin of her fuck-buddy slam dunk the night away.

It’s almost comically strange.

A few photographers snap photos of them — ugh, _that_ happens here — now that she’s back in the Luthordom also known as Metropolis. That was another nice thing about National City; as far as the media scene was concerned, she was just another rich bitch college kid, not _the Lena Luthor_ , second heir to the Evil Empire.

The photographers annoy her as always, but not quite as much as usual. See, if she has to suffer this, she’s going to ensure she gets something out of it too.

She suspects (hopes?) a certain person in particular will get to see those photos, plastered in the headlines next to her cousin’s name. It’s also the reason she’s made sure to look hot tonight — bright red heels, tight black jeans, herringbone coat — and the pièce de résistance? Kara’s sweatshirt. Thank whatever providence, it’s a nonchalant black and easy to style-up fashionably. The white text across the front reads ‘Comets Basketball’ in a retro block font. It’s vague enough to not arouse suspicion, but specific enough to catch Kara’s attention. 

Judging from the faded dye and the pilling inside, the sweatshirt is well-loved. Kara will notice.

Her scheme is the only bright side of the media attention, and her self-satisfaction wears off quickly. Lex, however, thrives in the spotlight.

“Did you miss the cameras, darling?” he teases, leaning over towards her.

Lena scoffs. “Oh, I’m just as thrilled with them as Mother was that time you crashed the yacht on spring break.”

“Ouch,” Lex gives an exaggerated wince. “Low blow, princess.”

“No,” Lena sucks her teeth. “A low blow is finding out my brother hired my ex to work in the family business.”

Lex winces again, for real this time. “I guess I owe you the rest of that explanation.”

“I should hope so.” Lena crosses her arms over her chest.

“I have a special … project I’m working on,” Lex explains. “I can’t really talk about it, but I needed someone I could trust to handle the finances.”

“So you hired my ex?” Lena gives him an incredulous look. “Were you even going to tell me?!”

“Yes, I was,” Lex assures. “But after the party in October, we weren’t exactly seeing eye-to-eye and … I didn’t know what to say.”

“By why _Sam?”_

“Sam isn’t loyal to Mother,” Lex whispers. “She’s smart and talented and, again, fearless. She was the best choice.”

“What are you doing that you don’t want Mother to know about?” Lena speaks just as softly as Lex does, a frown etched into her face. He clearly doesn’t want this to be overheard.

“I can’t tell you,” Lex’s voice is surprisingly soft and honest. “I will, Lena, I promise — but I can’t tell you yet.”

“Okay, “ Lena sighs. “Fine.” It’s not worth her energy to pursue any further. She won’t get anywhere.

“So Sam told me you two caught up,” Lex pipes back up.

“We did,” Lena nods begrudgingly. “Not a conversation I expected to have, though.”

“I’m …” Lex trails off, looking her in the eye. “I should’ve told you.”

“Yes, you should’ve,” Lena states. “But … things worked out alright.”

“Yes, Sam told me you declined her offer for dinner,” Lex says. “I must admit, I was surprised. I know how you feel about her.”

“How I _felt_ ,” Lena corrects. “Seeing Sam again, it made me realize … I don’t feel anything for her anymore. I think she’s an incredible woman — and I wish her and Ruby all the best — but our paths aren’t interwoven anymore.”

Lex gives her a look of approval. “You know, you’re pretty wise for a twenty-year-old. But you’ve always been a bit of an old soul.”

Lena rolls her eyes. “You sound like Father.”

“Ugh,” Lex grimaces, shaking his beer at her. “Sooner _stab me_ in the heart than repeat that sentiment.”

“Duly noted,” Lena chuckles.

“How are you doing, Lena?” Lex asks. His grandiose, partyboy persona has completely evaporated now, replaced by the (rusty) older brother routine. “I’m trying this new thing — caring about other people.”

“What a foreign concept,” Lena deadpans. “And I’m _good_ , actually.” 

It’s actually not a lie. She’s enjoying her life in National City. Classes are going smoothly; Jack and Andrea are doing well. Things with Kara are a giant question mark but she’s trying not to focus on it, and just enjoy it while she can — as Jack had advised.

“I’m glad. The west coast looks good on you. Must be all that sun,” Lex says casually, but his piercing eyes are anything but.

“Ha-ha,” Lena states sarcastically.

“It wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact you left my party with Clark’s cousin, would it?” Lex gives a sly smile.

Lena’s heart stops beating.

“I’m sorry, what are you insinuating?” Lena’s hackles raise. “And were you _watching me?”_

“Finch was.”

“Finch!” Lena exclaims, glaring a hole into the side of the muscle-bound man’s face.

“Sorry, Miss Luthor,” Finch gulps. He starts to look _very_ interested in the basketball game after that.

“Lena, you really think I’d let you get trashed and storm out of my party without someone watching to make sure you were okay?” Lex asks. “If it was anyone but Clark’s cousin, I’d have had Finch put an end to it there.”

It’s actually a touching gesture, but Lena’s too annoyed and panicked to consider that side of it.

“I’m surprised you weren’t too coked-up to function,” Lena tells Lex. “It’s not what you think.”

“What is it then?” Lex asks. He takes a smug sip of his beer; Lena wants to knock it out of his hand. “Did you and Clark’s cousin fuck?”

“Kara,” Lena corrects before she can stop herself. “And we haven’t. I barely know her … Why the sudden interest in my sex life, dear brother?”

“Because I _love_ being right,” Lex grins. “So — one-night-stand? Friends-with-benefits? Dating?”

“We didn’t sleep together,” Lena states, her voice as level as possible. _At least that night they didn’t._ She needs Lex to believe her.

“Alright, alright,” he sighs, raising his beer and empty hand up in defeat. “I’m surprised though, she looked … how do the kids say it? Absolutely _daddy?”_

“Oh my god,” Lena retches. “Do not _ever_ say that word again.”

She then whips back over to Finch. “How much would it cost me to have you rip his tongue out, right now?”

Finch’s shoulders shake with silent laughter but he doesn’t dare engage.

“What? I’m just using the new, hip lingo,” Lex jokes.

“No, you’re not, you’re torturing me like some megalomaniac.” Lena snaps. “Are you done?”

“Look,” Lex sighs, “I just want you to know I support you. I know I wasn’t really around with Sam and all, and I know how Mother gets. And for what it’s worth — I _did_ break up with Eve. You were right … we got high one night and she told me how she went to Lillian; she got paid for the information, to out you.”

“That absolute bitch,” Lena clenches her jaw. It feels like her blood has been replaced by hot coals, burning through her body. All that hardship, just so Eve could exploit her darkest secret for a few bucks?

“I’m sorry,” Lex says. He nudges her shoulder. “You’re my sister and you’ll always come first. Sam’s been talking some sense into me. It took a little bit to realize, but I’m getting there. I’m working to be better.”

In that moment, he looks so much like the protective older brother that would hide up in the treehouse with her during Lionel’s alcohol-induced rages. The fire in her blood dulls to a comforting warmth in her stomach.

“Thanks, Lex,” she smiles softly.

“Of course,” he nods, glancing back out over the court. “And I won’t press you further … but Clark is a good man; he comes from a good family. I highly suspect the same is true for Kara. She would be good for you.”

Oh, hell no. Lena doesn’t care for the direction of _that_ conversation one bit.

“Thanks for the matchmaking advice, Lex,” Lena sneers, but it doesn’t have the usual bite. “But I’m not looking for a girlfriend. I prefer my own company.”

She’s better off on her own. That’s how it’s always been.

“Alright, I’ll stop torturing you,” he chuckles. “Besides, the fourth quarter is about to start and Clarky-boy deserves my full attention.”

“Does Clark’s wife know you’re in love with him?” Lena teases.

“Ah, love is relative, Lena,” Lex waves her off. “I love myself too much to have room for anyone else.”

Lena rolls her eyes and leans back in her chair, somehow now oddly content to be there.

* * *

Kara’s holiday break goes a bit differently.

The Comets net a few more victories on the road then return to National City in time for the holidays. Basketball goes on break for the next few weeks, and the friends part ways. Mike takes Winn back to his home down south in Gateway City, James and Lucy fly back to their respective families in Metropolis, and Nia and Brainy remain in National City. Kara and Alex drive up to Midvale in Alex’s baby-blue beater car, ready to spend the holidays surrounded by the redwoods and lake waters. Maggie goes with them — it’ll be her second holiday with the Danvers’ family, and what was once nervousness has been replaced with quiet excitement.

They sing holiday songs the entire drive, and when they pull up to the house, Eliza is there waiting to welcome them all with hugs and the promise of hot chocolate. 

The next several days pass with a flurry of activity. Each morning starts with an early outdoor workout in the freezing air, and then they move to the old makeshift half-of-a-basketball-court Jeremiah once rigged up for his teenage daughters. They rotate through a few rounds of 1v1s to decide who gets the shower first — Alex wins.

“Oh, come on, that’s not fair,” Kara pouts, hands on her hips. “You totally traveled!”

Alex stops pumping her arms in the air and gives Maggie a triumphant smile. “Mags, did I travel?”

Maggie is laying courtside, her legs out in front of her and her arms behind her, propping her torso up. Kara might be the sweatiest, but Maggie is the most winded. 

She peers up at Alex and asks, “Can I shower with you?”

“Woah, not fair!” Kara objects.

“Yes, you can,” Alex says, voice wafting lightly like a benevolent monarch.

“Not a travel then,” Maggie states.

“Maggie …” Kara tries her pout on the other woman. It doesn’t work on Alex anymore; clearly she’s built up a tolerance over the years, but Maggie doesn’t have the same advantage.

“Sorry, Little Danvers,” Maggie looks apologetic, but still lets Alex pull her to her feet to head inside. 

“Just … don’t … you know,” Kara trails off. She has a feeling it’s futile to even ask. “Please.”

“I don’t know, I’m pretty sweaty …” Alex croons. “We might have to take a nice, _long_ shower.”

“Ew, gross!” Kara grimaces.

Alex gives her a wink goodbye, a final little dig under her skin. At least, Kara hopes it was just to annoy her, and not actually serious.

After brunch, the girls help Eliza throw up the holiday decorations. The next few days start the same way; they then go gift shopping, cook, and finish whatever other errands need to be done around the house. (There are many.)

It keeps Kara busy — which is a very good thing.

The most interesting deviation from the routine occurs one night when Kara is browsing highlights of Clark’s most recent game, only to see a headline that steals her full attention.

**Royalty Returns to the Metrodome: Luthor Siblings Sit Courtside at Meteors’ Game**

Kara instantly clicks on it, eager for the distraction.

The article itself is just a short fluff piece detailing the notable attendees of the Meteors’ Game. There’s nothing overly interesting written, save for a section in the middle.

_“Lex Luthor, board member and senior VP of Luthor Corp, was spotted courtside at last night’s Meteors’ game along with his elusive sister, Lena Luthor. Lex’s (29) younger sister Lena (20) currently attends college at National City University. Not much is known about her, as she has often shied away from the spotlight, while her brother runs into it. The young VP was arrested earlier last week for a drunk-and-disorderly charge. Judging by the beer in his hands, Metropolis’s number-one party boy isn’t planning on stopping anytime soon._

_An odd combination, Lex and Meteors’ star player/America’s golden boy, Clark Kent, have been long-time friends since college. Kent led the Meteors’ to victory last night against the Central City Chargers, 103-99.”_

Under the paragraph is a photo of Lena, sitting between Lex and a private security guard.

Kara hardly notices Lex or the security guard; her eyes are riveted on Lena. She’s leaning back in the chair, arms crossed over her chest, engaged in conversation with a very animated Lex. Her hair falls straight down around her neck to frame her beautiful face. That — paired with her bright-red lipstick and matching red fuck-me pumps — makes Kara’s heart race.

But it’s the glimpse of sweatshirt that makes her heart stop entirely.

Lena’s wearing _Kara’s_ sweatshirt. In _public_.

Kara doesn’t know how to feel about it.

The main thought is: fuck, she looks _hot_.

But on the other hand, it’s a bit odd to see Lena, a very real person, immortalized like this in the media. She’s a normal person of flesh and bone that’s been under Kara’s hands, but yet now she’s just a distant collection of pixels on Kara’s phone. Though, it’s not that strange, really — Clark’s in the news all the time, Lois _writes_ the news, and Kara herself has even been in a few small media spreads. But it still feels different. It feels invasive.

And then there’s the fact that the article is a foreign glimpse into Lena’s life in Metropolis. Lena is her own person with her own life separate from Kara’s — she’d made that perfectly clear. And now Kara has to sit and watch from the bench.

But the sweatshirt. That’s a good sign, right? No one would wear their fuck buddy’s sweatshirt — and get publicly photographed in it — if they were seeing someone else too, right?

Kara’s stomach begins to chew on itself a bit, remembering how their last conversation went, but she shoves it down deep into her toes. Despite her best efforts to not think about it, she opens up her messages to text Lena. It’s been almost two weeks and she has to dig down through the list of her recent contacts to find her.

_is THE Lena Luthor actually enjoying watching basketball now?_

She follows up with a screenshot of Lena’s photo in the article. 

**_hot girl bummer:_ ** _Don’t worry, darling, you’re still my favorite Super to watch._

Kara’s chest gives a bit of an involuntary puff of pride. She can’t help but relish in the idea of Lena watching, in person, at one of her games sometime. But that’s silly to think — they’re not like that. They only exist in the shadows.

_glad to hear it! it would be terrible for morale otherwise_

**_hot girl bummer:_ ** _Well, we can’t have that, can we?_

_you look good in that sweatshirt by the way_

**_hot girl bummer:_ ** _Thank you. Someone forgot it at my apartment and I thought it was too comfortable to squander. I figured you might appreciate the outfit_ _…_

_want to see how much i appreciated it?_

Kara bites her lip. She shouldn’t have sent that, probably, but _fuck_ if she isn’t horny.

**_hot girl bummer:_ ** _Let’s see it, Danvers._

Kara scrambles to her feet, quickly locking the door. The last thing she needs right now is Alex or Maggie wandering into her room. She then rips her shirt off and plops down on the bed. After a few minutes of careful posing and flexing, she snaps a photo of her hand down her joggers and sends it to Lena.

**_hot girl bummer:_ ** _Hmmm. Looks like you’ve got a small problem on your hands._

_care to help me out with it?_

**_hot girl bummer:_ ** _I think that can be arranged. Are you still as effective over text?_

_join me and find out_

Kara’s heart nearly stops when her phone buzzes again. It’s a photo of a green, gossamer silk sheet draped over Lena’s parted legs, the line of her wrist running down between them.

Oh, fuck yes. They’re doing this.

That night, Kara passes out with her phone still in her hand, a satisfied smile on her face.

* * *

Before Kara knows it, her break is halfway over.

The holiday itself is a delight. Multi-colored little lights twinkle around the Danvers’ house and the smell of fresh pine fills the rooms. They all don ugly holiday sweaters to bake cookies, make the Danvers’ traditional dinner, and finish with a pie-eating contest. (Kara is the reigning champ for a borderline-unfair number of years running). They then lounge around to open presents while the fireplace roars behind them, bellies a little too full but no regrets in sight. 

It feels like home. And it’s almost perfect. But it’s … heavy, for better or worse.

In a moment of eggnog-charged boldness, Kara texts Lena again that night.

_happy holidays, luthor :) guess who successfully defended their title in the Danvers’ family pie-eating contest again?_

**_hot girl bummer:_ ** _If I had to make an educated guess by stomach capacity, I’d say you._

_correct! you really are a genius, aren’t you?_

**_hot girl bummer:_ ** _Hardly. Happy Holidays, Kara._

_happy holidays to you too!_

Well, that’s that then. A twinge of disappointment ripples through Kara’s stomach. She doesn’t know what she had been expecting, but … something more than that, perhaps.

But that’s just it, right? She’s always looking, longing for something more. Something she can’t have. A terrible ache settles into her gut. This isn’t about Lena, not really. This is about one thing in particular.

Kara’s family.

Alex peeks her head into Kara’s room, and the blonde quickly hides her phone behind her back. Alex squints at the motion but doesn’t address it further. “Mom wants to know if you’re all packed yet?”

“Yep,” Kara says, plastering a fake smile across her face.

“You doing okay?” Alex crosses her arms and leans in the doorway. “I know the past few weeks have been a bit rough on you.”

Kara nods. “Yeah, I’m doing better. It’s just hard around the anniversary, but I’m feeling better. Sleeping better too.”

Alex gives her a sympathetic smile.

Kara looks up at Alex with disbelief. “Alex, I can’t believe it, but … it’s been over eight years.”

And there it is.

Kara’s hand comes up to clutch the gold crest of the necklace that lies over her heart. Her fingers trace over the strong curves of the ‘S’ shape.

Over eight years ago, on one wordlessly awful day in December, Kara had lost her family. The beginning of the month was plagued with nightmares and sleepless nights every year after. By the time the holidays rolled around, the pain shifted to a constant dull ache of a scar that would never fully heal. But it was changing — as all things do with time — as the mental burden felt more natural to process and the nightmares became more infrequent.

It had been every bit a curse, yet the Danvers’ family had somehow made it into a blessing from the dark. They had taken her in and made her one of them without hesitation. (Well, teenage Alex hadn’t been happy at first, but they came around to be thick as thieves.) Kara was so grateful to and for them, but it was a new love alongside an incredible loss — it didn’t replace it.

And the holidays brought out that dichotomy in full force.

“Eight years …” Kara trails off. 

Kara plops down onto her bed and cradles her head in her palms. Alex is next to her immediately, one sisterly hand wrapped over her shoulders, and the other hand braced around her wrist, trying to extract Kara’s face.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Alex soothed. “No crying allowed on Danvers’ family holidays, remember?”

“No crying allowed,” Kara echoed with a teary-eyed smile. It was a sentiment Alex had told her during her very first holiday with the Danvers. “After the last few weeks, I should be out of tears by now.”

They exchange a knowing smile. Kara’s not one quick to cry, but yet family always seemed to defy that fact.

“I know you miss them,” Alex says. “I miss Dad every day. But they’re always with us.”

Kara sniffles and smiles softly. “Alex … do you think my parents would be proud of me?”

It’s not Alex’s voice that answers, but Eliza’s.

“With every fiber of my being.”

She’s standing in the doorway of Kara’s room — leaning against the wood in such a familiar way that it drives home that Alex is undeniably her child — smiling over at both of her daughters.

Both Kara and Alex jump to their feet.

“Sweetheart,” Eliza continues, walking over to join them. “Your parents would be so proud of you — proud that you’re getting your degree, proud of your basketball accomplishments. But most importantly, they would be proud of the incredible, strong, compassionate young woman their daughter has become. I know I am.”

“Thank you, Eliza,” Kara whispers, enveloping her adoptive mother into a bear hug. Alex joins them, throwing one arm over Kara’s back and one arm around her mother.

“I’m proud of you too, Kara,” Alex adds.

Kara sniffles happily. “Thank you both … for everything.”

“There’s no thanks needed,” Eliza assures. “You’re _family_ , Kara. And I love both of my daughters, unconditionally, with all my heart.”

“Love you too,” Kara smiles. A single, bittersweet tear rolls down her face.

“Love you too, Mom,” Alex echoes, squeezing a bit tighter.

At this point, Kara opens her eyes again, only to see a third figure occupying the doorway to her room. Maggie has her arms crossed over her chest, watching their family moment unfold with a sad, nostalgic look in her eye. Upon realizing she’s been spotted, she gives Kara a nod and a soft, polite smile, clearly concerned about intruding.

“Maggie,” Kara says. “Come over here! It’s not a family hug without you.”

Maggie hesitates for a second, but Alex and Eliza shift to open a spot between them, and she slips into the fold.

The four women hold onto the hug for several joyous minutes, until a loud rumble emanates from Kara’s stomach.

“Hey Eliza,” Kara mumbles sheepishly. “… Do we have any pie left?”

The sounds of laughter immediately fill the Danvers household.

* * *

Eliza drives Kara to the airport the next day. Alex and Maggie stay behind to clean up the house — though Kara heavily expects not a lot of cleaning will get done. She and her adoptive mother pass the time discussing basketball, Eliza’s work, Kara’s classes, and then eventually her rapidly-impending trip to Metropolis.

“Are you excited for your trip?” Eliza asks her.

“Yes!” Kara grins, looking out the window wistfully. They’re getting pretty close to the airport now.

“And Clark is picking you up from the airport?” Eliza asks.

“Lois is,” Kara says.

“Okay, good,” Eliza nods. “Are you excited to see Jon?”

“So excited! I know it’s silly,” Kara says, sucking on her bottom lip. “But means a lot to me that Clark’s family is getting bigger … that _my_ family is getting bigger again.”

“It’s not silly,” Eliza assures. “Blood doesn’t bind, Kara, love does … but I can understand what Jon’s birth means to you and Clark. It’s a feeling of … hope.”

“Yeah, exactly,” Kara smiles softly.

“So, what about you, Kara?” Eliza’s tone is abruptly intense. “Mike might’ve saved you at Thanksgiving, but I want to know about your life. Have you met anyone?”

Kara’s heart skips a beat. It doesn’t help that she’s heading right for the home of the only person that might dare make her want to answer ‘yes’ to that question.

“I’m just having fun with my friends. I’m not really one for relationships, Eliza,” Kara brushes off.

“I worry about you, Kara,” Eliza says. “Because you put the weight of the world on your shoulders, and that means you don’t let people in easily.”

“I’m okay,” Kara assures. “Really, I’m happy with how my life is. And when I’m ready to let someone in, I will.”

Eliza sighs, and it’s laced with both disappointment and acceptance. “That’s all I can ask, sweetie. Will you see any of your friends while you’re there?”

“James and Lucy are gonna come over at some point to shoot around with Clark and I, and maybe eat dinner too if things stay … civilized between Lucy and Lois,” Kara says. 

Civilized is the key word — Lois and Lucy have never gotten along, though Kara doesn’t understand why (and she loves them both). They’re both passionate, stubborn, caring people. They’ve just always been pitted against each other by their father — General Samuel Lane. Lucy is a total daddy’s girl, while Lois can’t stand the man. Clark hates him too, and Kara’s not a big fan either. Thankfully, she won’t have to contend with him this trip. And hopefully, one day, Lucy and Lois can salvage their relationship from his grip.

“That’ll be nice,” Eliza says.

“And Sara might be in town for a night, I’m not sure yet,” Kara continues. “And—”

She stops herself short.

_And Lena, too,_ Kara thinks, before mentally slapping her wrist. _Get a grip, Danvers. She doesn’t even know you’re going to be there._

“And that’s it,” Kara finishes awkwardly.

“Good,” Eliza muses. “I have to say, I’m so glad you and Alex have the relationship you do. If you were like the Lane sisters … I think it would break my heart a bit.”

“Me too,” Kara agrees.

They arrive at the airport soon after.

“I hope you have a wonderful time in Metropolis, sweetie,” Eliza hugs her goodbye outside the terminal, handing Kara her suitcase and backpack. “Love you.”

“Love you too, Eliza,” Kara goes in for a second hug.

“Text me when you land,” Eliza says. “Give Clark and Lois my love, and have fun with your friends!”

Kara smiles, but it’s a bit bittersweet. If only it was that simple.

“I will.”

Hopefully.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Lex is more 'chaotic neutral' than 'evil' in this. Lena deserves at least one semi-healthy family dynamic.
> 
> . . . . . . .  
> (Just some general worldbuilding stuff below, so feel free to skip if you don't like that kind of stuff.)
> 
> Both the NMBL and NWBL are equally popular and lucrative leagues  
> Basketball and soccer (football) are the main national sports, so college ball is also pretty big  
> A lot of the typical American cities don't exist in this AU, in favor of the DC Universe ones. General approximate geography:
> 
> Star City = Washington State  
> Midvale = smallish town in northern California  
> National City = San Francisco, California  
> Gateway City = Los Angeles, California  
> Gotham = Chicago, Illinois  
> Midway City = Colorado  
> Central City = Missouri  
> Smallville = Kansas  
> Keystone City = Texas  
> Amnesty Bay = Maine  
> Boston = Boston  
> Metropolis = New York City, New York  
> Opal City = Maryland-Delaware-Pennsylvania area  
> D.C. = D.C.  
> Freeland = Georgia  
> Tempest City = Florida  
> Empire City = Louisiana
> 
> Some cities will have a minor role in this AU, the others are just mentioned because I'm a completionist.


	9. bare the burden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some burdens are better to bare with company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are incredible as always; you've got me blushing.
> 
> As many of you have noticed, the chapter count keeps going up. Once I realized I wanted this to be a longer story than originally intended, I mapped out a comprehensive outline for it. Turns out, I have no concept of word counts, and I will lose my mind if I have to edit a 20K chapter all in one go. So each planned chapter is getting broken up into the shorter 'chapters' you see here, as needed. I promise I'm not one for filler; this is intended to be a love story and I want to do it justice -- make it genuine -- to the best of my abilities.
> 
> Also, in my naivety, I didn't realize I was writing a slow burn; I thought that just referred to the physical component. I've since cleaned up the tags and added some new ones so the tin matches the cookies.
> 
> Thank you deeply for the continued support, I really am so honored. Without further adieu, here is the next installment:

* * *

The new year always brings a new hell in the Luthor family. 

Every year for New Year’s, Luthor Corp holds an extravagant gala for their investors, high-ranking employees, partner companies, and the like (honestly it’s just anyone with money and/or something Lillian wants). People dress to the nines, come to drink champagne, and boast to each other about their latest capitalist ventures. It was once Lionel’s tradition, but Lillian has since made it her own.

Unfortunately, that means it’s even grander and more miserable.

Usually, Lena would get away with tucking herself into some corner to people-watch. If she got really lucky, she could even sneak off into Lionel’s former study to go tinker on whatever current project held her fascination. Lex, for all his flaws, was always adept at fielding the spotlight of ‘Luthor child’ at these prodigal, shallow (corporate-circle-jerk) functions.

But Lena wasn’t so lucky this time. Lex had been called away to the new Luthor Corp factory in Paris to address a manufacturing issue — where Lena was _positive_ he was having way more fun than she was right now. 

And so to Lena did the burden fall tonight.

The only redeeming part of the whole event was the fact that Andrea was there to suffer alongside her, invited as part of her father Bernardo’s Obsidian North corporate party. The two women were dressed in elegant gowns and diamond jewelry. Lena knew Andrea actually enjoyed these functions, especially the excuse to dress up so lavishly, but Lena couldn’t summon the same enthusiasm.

“Seen any cute boys yet?” Andrea asks, sipping her drink. 

Lena, still under twenty-one and also under the watchful eye of Lillian, has no drink and can only watch with jealousy as Andrea polishes off her first glass of wine.

“Hardly,” Lena scoffs.

“A pity,” Andrea sighs. “I could use the distraction; this dry-spell has gone for far too long.”

“Are you not enjoying yourself, Andrea?” Lena asks sarcastically. They both know the answer.

“How’s your mom been?” Andrea asks.

“Oh, you know,” Lena says. “Harping on me about my grades, my clothes, my weight, my relationships or, rather, lack-there-of …”

Andrea groans. “God, Lena, I don’t know how you stand her …”

“Do I really have a choice?” Lena says ruefully. “That’s just how family is.”

As if she knew they were talking about her, Lillian’s piercing grey eyes fixate on Lena from across the room. Suddenly, Lena feels like a fox about to be set for a hunt.

“Oh, no,” Lena mumbles.

“Lena, dear, come here!” Lillian summons, waving her over with one pearl-white gloved hand. There’s a man standing beside her with black hair, clad in a black suit and royal-blue tie.

“Excuse me,” Lena whispers to Andrea. “I’m being summoned.”

“The witch beckons,” Andrea mutters, giving her a sympathetic look. “I’ll come rescue you in a bit, but I need to go meet one of my dad’s new investors.”

“Ever the dutiful daughters, right?” Lena sighs. Andrea squeezes her arm goodbye as they part ways.

Lena strolls over in her terribly tall heels, yet somehow she’s still not quite up at Lillian’s height.

“Yes, Mother?” she gives her a polite yet fake, close-lipped smile.

“There’s someone I’d like you to meet,” Lillian says, gesturing to the man next to her. Now that she’s closer, Lena can see he’s fairly young — probably mid-twenties max — and has a rather handsome face along with an athletic physique. His shiny black hair is fashioned into an expensive pretty-boy haircut.

“Dick Grayson,” he greets. “But you can call me Grayson, since I doubt I’ve done anything to merit being called ‘Dick’ yet.”

“And do you plan to?” Lena challenges, tilting a strong chin up at him.

Grayson gives her a once-over that would’ve been predatory for another man, but he does it in a way that reminds Lena of someone eying danger with a healthy dose of awe and respect. 

“No, Miss Luthor, I don’t think I will.” He holds out a friendly hand for her to shake. His muscles pull his suit fabric taut, the same way that Kara’s do. 

_Kara —_ who feels nearly a planet away right now — and whose absence has left Lena feeling like she’s gone the past few weeks without sun. But Lena’s not thinking about Kara right now. Because that’s not what they are. They’re just college fuck buddies who also sexted over break once.

“A man with a survival instinct,” Lena remarks. “How rare.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t go that far,” Grayson chuckles. “But I’m under oath to be on my best behavior.” He has a nice smile — just as bright as Kara’s — but it’s performative where Kara’s is always (annoyingly) genuine.

“Mr. Grayson here is one of Bruce Wayne’s boys — heir apparent to Wayne Enterprises,” Lillian informs her.

Lena has only met Bruce Wayne twice before. The first time was many years ago at Gotham’s opera house, and he had actually fallen asleep during the show, much to Lionel’s bewilderment. The second time was more recently at some lavish fundraiser Lillian dragged her to. She vaguely remembers Bruce having a gaggle of adopted children, all either teenagers or adults now. It was a rather memorable vision; the aging playboy surrounded by angsty teenagers that had stripped him of his patience, leaving only greying hair and a grumpy, tired-looking man in his place.

“Oh, I’m flattered by the introduction, Mrs. Luthor, but Bruce hasn’t decided which of us, if any, will head up Wayne Enterprises when he decides to retire,” Grayson says. “I’m not sure I’d even be up to the task.”

“Heavy hangs the head that wears the crown, does it not?” Lena challenges.

“Especially when the head in question is — by all accounts — tragically empty,” Grayson jokes.

“Nonsense,” Lillian scoffs playfully. “So humble. Richard here is also a former Olympian, Lena.”

“Is that so?” Lena raises an eyebrow. That was enough to merit a basic level of respect from her, and Lillian clearly knew that.

Grayson nods once. “Gymnastics. Two silver, one gold.”

“Congratulations,” Lena states. “That’s quite the feat.”

“Thank you, Miss Luthor,” he smiles.

“Well then,” Lillian clasps her hands together, quite pleased with herself. Clearly, she has mistaken Lena’s tolerance of the man for reserved interest. “I’ll leave you two to get to know each other better. Lena — play nice.”

Grayson nods his head politely, while Lena concentrates all her willpower on waiting until Lillian’s back is turned before rolling her eyes.

“Your mother is …” Grayson trails off, frowning. “A character.”

“That’s a very diplomatic description,” Lena muses.

“Would you mind if we head upstairs?” Grayson asks, pointing up to the interior mezzanine balcony wrapping around the second floor. “I’ve always preferred to suffer these events from a distance. It’s quieter.”

That’s usually her preference as well, so she nods an acceptance.

“Shall we, Miss Luthor?” Grayson holds out his elbow to her.

“I’m quite alright on my own, thank you,” Lena says, looking at the offending appendage with a mixture of contempt and disappointment.

“Very well,” Grayson chuckles good-naturedly, not remotely bothered by Lena’s hostility. 

They head up the massive staircase to the second floor, to look out over the interior balcony above. Staff and guests scurry up and down the stairs and down the halls, but they’re at enough of a distance to maintain the youngest Luthor’s privacy, as if Lillian had expressly forbade anyone from interrupting whatever this latest scheme was.

“No drink for you tonight, Miss Luthor?” Grayson notes.

Lena lets out the biggest internal sigh. This night was already boring and painful enough without a milquetoast shadow to make small-talk with. And ugh, all the titles and the surnames are like chewing glass. 

“I’m afraid I’m still only twenty, Mr. Grayson,” Lena says, leaning against the railing and surveying the formal chaos below them. Grayson does the same, but facing the opposite direction.

“Well, that fuckin’ sucks,” Grayson chuckles, his polite air all but discarded. “The booze is the only good part of being here — present company excluded.”

It makes Lena do a double-take, brow furrowed at the man.

“How … refreshing candid, Mr. Grayson,” Lena notes with a bit of humor.

“Just Grayson please,” he requests. “Or Gray, even. I’m hardly one for formalities.”

“I should inform you, Grayson,” Lena warns. “Despite my mother’s best efforts, this will go nowhere. I’m not interested.”

“In men? I know,” Grayson levies. 

Lena stands upright to face him, already sharpening her metaphorical knife.

“I’m friends, family, whatever, with Kate Kane,” Grayson explains, giving Lena an earnest look. She’s also met Kate Kane, younger cousin of Bruce Wayne, a few times at various professional functions, but nothing really substantial — though Kate was a known icon in the lesbian community. Apparently, she had clocked Lena at one point or another.

“She has quite the thing for you, you know,” Grayson smirks.

“I-I did not know,” Lena confesses. She hasn’t seen Kate in years, not since she had joined the NWBL … to play basketball. Huh. 

_Apparently, I attract a type_ , Lena thinks.

“Anyways,” Grayson continues. “I was walking past your mother as she was discussing having Maxwell Lord be your escort tonight. I decided it would be best to volunteer my services instead.”

Lena shivers, and not from the cold air drifting in through a cracked window. The idea of spending a whole evening on the arm of Maxwell Lord summons bile into her throat. He’s only a few years older than Lena, but he’s a spoiled, entitled, misogynistic man — (even once having mentioned to Lena how he’s certain he could make her _appreciate_ men again) — and overall just an asshole to deal with.

Grayson says, “This way you’d just have to suffer the company of a boring, happily-taken man.”

“Taken?” Lena asks politely.

“Barbara Gordon, the love of my life,” Grayson says with a dramatic air. “She and Kate play together on the Gotham Bats.”

Lena hums thoughtfully. “Well, a ‘Dick’ is better than an asshole, is it not?” she quips.

Grayson lets out a delighted yelp, and to avoid the critical glares of the elderly couple nearby, they begin to walk idly, elbows interlocked this time.

“Does your mother not know of your preferences?” Grayson asks.

“Oh, Lillian is well aware,” Lena says. “She doesn’t like it but she’ll tolerate it privately. Public is … a different beast. Unless she can use me as a token to procure some business deal, she’d sooner hide me in the closet — literally.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Grayson frowns.

“It’s just a fact, Grayson,” Lena states. “There’s no need for apologies or pity.”

“Please,” Grayson scoffs to break the tension. “I only pity the both of us for being trapped here tonight.”

Lena smiles in sympathy.

“We could escape, you know,” Grayson gives a conspiratorial waggle of his eyebrows. “I have a friend who owns a club downtown — he’s a big ‘WBL fan. Your age won’t be an issue. We could go do something actually fun.”

“Well, I certainly wouldn’t be opposed to leaving this hell-hole,” Lena says. “ … Though I would be a terrible person to leave my friend behind.” She would certainly be on the receiving end of an irate phone call from Andrea.

“Go get her then,” Grayson says. “It’s the humanitarian thing to do.”

Lena mulls it over for a minute. On one hand, she could stay here like the dutiful daughter and suffer through the rest of the gala, or she could go grab Andrea and make her escape with her one pleasant acquaintance of the night. She could only imagine Lillian’s abject horror to her underage daughter ditching her family to party at a club — though, perhaps she would be pleased, as she had clearly introduced Grayson to Lena with some sort of self-serving intention.

“Well, I could use a good scotch,” Lena decides. “I’ll find Andrea and meet you by the valet.”

Grayson gives her a pleased smile. “I’ll call my driver.”

And that’s how Lena finds herself at the bar of Club Acrata in downtown Metropolis, surrounded by the kinds of rich people who buy their lips and likes. She’s dressed a bit formal for the club scene, but she knows she still looks good; she’s perfected the regal-yet-distant fashion style. It works for her.

Grayson, Andrea, and her all chat and exchange stories for a while. At one point, Andrea leaves to go get high on the rooftop patio outside, and Grayson’s friend — the club owner — whisks him away for a moment, leaving Lena to enjoy the peaceful silence of her own company.

For a few precious moments.

“Scotch. Good choice,” a woman drawls beside her shoulder.

Lena looks up to see an athletic-looking woman in a fitted grey suit — there’s no shirt underneath her blazer, only an elaborate series of silver chains — standing at the bar beside her. Her blonde hair falls in tight waves around her face, and her blue eyes gleam in the purple club lights. She’s objectively quite attractive, and there’s something oddly familiar about her. 

Well, perhaps this interruption is not unwelcome.

“Sara,” she introduces herself. “Can I get your name?”

“Lena,” she tilts her glass in greeting.

“Mind if I join you?” Sara asks, already sliding into the seat next to her.

“Sure,” Lena says. “Though I have to warn you, I’m not the best company tonight.”

“Long night?” Sara asks.

“You could say that,” Lena says. “Ever been somewhere you just don’t want to be?”

“Plenty of times,” Sara muses. “I’ve found company helps.”

If Lena wasn’t mistaken, Sara just flirted with her.

“Are you from Metropolis?” Lena asks. “You seem … familiar.”

Sara shakes her head. “Star City born and raised — well, semi-raised. A girl’s gotta have her wild side right?”

Lena chuckles. “Cheers to that.” 

Sara takes the initiative to clink their glasses together, and she gives Lena a playful look as she sips her drink. 

Lena considers the other woman as she takes a sip of her own drink. Sara is an attractive woman (Lena acknowledges with a twang of annoyance that she might have a thing for blondes), and she’s clearly down to fuck, but … even though Lena could desperately use the stress relief, something holds her back. 

She has a vague suspicion that her alcohol-addled mind will morph Sara’s face into that of another blonde.

“So what brings you to Metropolis?” Lena asks. “Business or pleasure?”

Sara’s hand slides over the bartop, resting out near Lena’s drink. “A bit of both,” she smiles. “I play basketball in the ‘WBL. We had a game in Metropolis tonight.”

Then it clicks together.

Lena realizes with a start — _this Sara_ is Sara Lance, one of Kara’s … well, she knows Kara.

“Did you win?” Lena chokes out, trying to buy herself time to calculate how she wants the conversation to unfold.

“Of course,” Sara gives her a sly smile, leaning forward. “There’s not many things I’m bad at.”

The photo of Sara and Kara on Kara’s social media page intrudes into Lena’s mind. She now knows there’s a very cut physique under that grey suit. Lena gulps.

“Basketball,” Lena repeats. “Do you happen to know Kara Danvers then?”

Sara smiles — this one is genuine and without a flirtatious undertone. “I know both of the Danvers sisters. They’re wonderful people.”

“They are,” Lena agrees. Both her and Sara already have their lips parted, as if to comment about the odd air of familiarity between them, when they both get cut off.

“Sara, there you are!” A voice rings out. “Those girls won’t—“

Lena turns to face the newcomer, only to see the last person she ever would’ve expected.

_Kara fucking Danvers._

(What kind of sick coincidence is this? Does the universe conspire against her?)

“Kara?!” Lena is shocked and confused, and feeling a bit of deja-vu from Lex’s party. Kara needs to stop popping up uninvited in her social circles. 

“Lena!?” Kara echoes. She seems more excited than surprised though.

“What are you doing in Metropolis?” Lena’s tone is incredulous and she looks Kara up and down to make sure it’s really her.

Oh, no. She looks _hot_. 

To meet the club’s posh dress code, Kara’s got on a navy-blue suit jacket and matching slacks, but the clothing seems just the tiniest bit too small — Lena can see a bit more wrist and ankle than she should. The baby-blue turtleneck underneath is undeniably Kara’s though, and Lena can see the black band of her watch around her forearm. As sure as the sun in the sky each new morning, Kara’s gold ‘S’ necklace shines proudly over her chest.

“I’m here visiting Kal; I got to meet my little nephew!” Kara beams, then frowns in thought. “Or is he my little cousin?”

“First cousin once removed,” Lena supplies automatically. She then shoots Kara a demanding, questioning look, as if to say: _Why didn’t you tell me you were here?_

Kara meets her gaze with a defensive glare of her own.

“You two know each other?” Sara squints, eyes shifting between the two of them.

Lena expects Kara to attempt to mumble out some unintelligible confirmation of ‘uh, well—‘ or ‘oh, we—‘, but that doesn’t happen.

“Yes,” comes the firm reply. 

Lena doesn’t let her shock show, but Kara’s reaction is surprisingly stalwart.

“We go to school together,” Lena adds in the name of diplomacy. Apparently, something has got Kara a bit tense. (Lena would hazard a guess it’s Sara’s fingertips only an inch away from her own.)

“Of course,” Sara nods, turning to face her friend.

Kara and Sara stare at each other, having some silent full-on conversation. Lena’s eyes flick back and forth between the two; Sara’s eyebrows raise in a challenge, Kara clenches her jaw and tightens her fist, then Sara makes a subtle nod. Whatever the outcome is, it results in Sara slowly pulling her hand back into her own personal space, and she leans back in her chair.

“And you two know each other as well,” Lena says. It’s spoken like a statement but the other two women seem to understand it for the question it is.

“Sara and I go way back,” Kara explains. “We used to go to basketball camp together. I was the only point guard that could keep up with her.”

“We’ve known each other for a long time,” Sara adds. She gives Kara a look that Lena can’t quite place initially. Lena’s a bit of an expert on how people look at Kara Danvers if they think she’s hot, and Sara Lance _definitely_ has that look, but there’s a warm affection that dulls it.

“So you two …?” Lena tries to keep her voice neutral despite her insinuation. It doesn’t work.

Sara laughs. “Oh no, Kara isn’t the Danvers I’ve slept with.”

. . . . . . . . 

_(April, approx. 22 months ago …)_

_Kara stood off to the side of the hotel outside, hands on her hips, wandering a few steps in one direction then another, muttering under her breath. Her eyes combed over the faces of every newcomer anxiously. She wore an ensemble of black and sky blue sportswear, and a small hoard of backpacks and duffle bags sat down by her feet._

_“C’mon Alex,” Kara hissed. “Where the hell are you? J’onn is gonna be_ so _pissed …”_

_In a moment of cosmic mercy, a familiar head of auburn hair appeared and Kara’s eyes widened in recognition._

_“Alex!” Kara hissed, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “Where have you been!? The bus leaves for the airport in like 20 minutes.”_

_“It’s so bright outside Kara,” Alex whined, clutching her head with one hand. Large, dark sunglasses cover half her face. “Who even needs the sun anyways?”_

_“Why didn’t you come back to the hotel room?” Kara interrogated. “And why was one of your bags missing?”_

_“I was … out,” Alex said._

_“Out?!” Kara exclaimed. “Out doing what?!”_

_“Uh … jogging,” Alex floundered. The lie was so obvious; Kara’s eyebrows shot up to challenge it’s very threadbare integrity._

_“Jogging,” Kara repeated. “After just playing in the national championship game?”_

_“Fully clothed,” Alex added, as if that needed to be specified._

_“You had me so worried!” Kara chided. “You just disappeared in downtown Central City and no one knew where you went!”_

_“I didn’t do anything I wouldn’t have done back in National City,” Alex says. “Kinda.”_

_“Okay,” Kara accepted, shoving a duffle bag into Alex’s arms. “Here, I already packed the rest of your stuff up.”_

_“Thank you,” Alex exhales._

_Kara’s eyes honed in on something over Alex’s shoulder. “Hey Sara,” she nodded._

_“Hey,” Sara said. She strolled up to join them with a sense of familiarity; the only thing out of place was her green Starling University attire that contrasted with Alex and Kara’s blue and black NCU gear._

_“Congrats on the win, Kara,” Sara smiles. “Glad someone put Gotham in their place.” Sara then turned to Alex, “You too — Alex, right?”_

_“Thanks …” Alex trails off awkwardly, wagging a finger at the woman. “Sh…”_

_“Sara,” Sara clarified, pointing to herself._

_“Sara,” Alex repeated, breaking out into a clearly forced bout of laughter. “I knew that. You’re Sara!”_

_Kara just stared at her sister, mouth agape and eyes wide, feeling a bit like she was watching a car accident in slow motion. She quickly pasted on a smile when Alex turned to glance at her._

_“How’s—how’s it going? How are you?” Alex rambled, looking back at Sara. Her hands toyed nervously with the strap of her backpack thrown over her shoulder. “Congrats on the … basketball!”_

_Kara swallowed roughly, uncomfortable and unsure as to the cause of the awkward tension._

_“I’m good, a little hungover but I’ll survive,” Sara brushed back a loose piece of hair. “How are you? How’s your ass?”_

_Kara’s eyebrows crinkled immediately, her teeth clenching together. Alex seemed to have short-circuited, unable to do more than just nod repeatedly, staring at the ground._

_“I heard you fall out of bed this morning,” Sara added. “It sounded painful.”_

_Kara took a deep inhale. Even though there wasn’t a single cloud in the sky, Kara felt as though they had parted for her._

_Oh Alex, you_ **_didn’t._**

_“Oh, uh, yeah, a little, it, uh, yeah,” Alex stammered. She just gave up and began to laugh uncomfortably again._

_“Okay, anyways, I’ve gotta run,” Sara shrugged, placing a hand on Alex’s arm. “Don’t want to miss my ride home. See you guys around.”_

_“Bye, Sara,” Kara smiled at her friend._

_Alex’s head turned around to watch Sara walk away, clearly trying her hardest to do anything_ but _look at her sister. Kara ran her tongue over the edges of her teeth, smiling and shaking her head while looking down at the sidewalk._

_Unbelievable._

_“You—”_

_“It’s not what it sounded like,” Alex defended._

_“—didn’t,” Kara finished. There’s definitely an edge to her voice, but it’s born out of disbelief rather than judgment._

_“I …” Alex gasped. “I did, I definitely did. Like twice — no, three times!” Alex clutched her chest in surprise. “Oh my god, Kara, I …”_

_Kara couldn’t help it as she began to laugh at her sister’s mortification._

_“Did I just …?” Alex asked. “What did I do? Do you know what I did?”_

_Kara brought a hand up to cover her grin, as if that would do anything to stop the giggles escaping. “Uh, not the specifics, no,” Kara joked. “But I think you just had a one-night-stand with my friend.”_

_“Oh my god,” Alex repeated. “I just had a one-night-stand.”_

_“You did,” Kara confirmed, nodding and smiling._

_Alex bent over slightly, mouth gaping as she began to process her actions. “Kara, oh my god. I’m so bad. Oh my god.”_

_“You’re fine.”_

_“I’m horrible,” Alex continued. “I’m a horrible, terrible sister. I just had a one-night-stand with your friend.”_

_“No, Alex, it’s fine,” Kara rebuffed. “You’re single, you’re healthy, there’s nothing wrong with it! One-night-stands are fun.”_

_“I’m turning into post-James you,” Alex groaned. “No offense.”_

_“None taken,” Kara smirked. “I’m smart enough not to sleep with my sister’s friends.”_

_“Oh, god,” Alex doubled over as the words seemingly brought her physical pain._

_“Come on, you’re fine,” Kara assured, pulling her upright. “You just won a national championship and you got to ‘celebrate’ in style. You’re good — no, you’re great — because you, Alex, are a national champion.”_

_“Okay, yeah, okay,” Alex nodded vigorously, the tension in her body deflating the smallest amount. “National champion,” she repeated, as if it could anchor her to the ground._

_“Plus, Sara’s awesome. You have good taste,” Kara soothed, grabbing Alex by the shoulders. “Now, get your ‘sore ass’ on that bus before we make everyone late.”_

. . . . . . . .

“Oh, I see,” Lena sucks on her lips, trying not to laugh. She shoots Kara an inside look. _So this is the friend, then, that Alex …?_

Kara nods a confirmation — a matching, restrained yet knowing smile on her face.

“Alex didn’t go to the camp that I met Sara at,” Kara explains. “So they ended up meeting for the first time the night we won the national championship. We were out celebrating.”

“Yeah, and your sister can really handle her scotch,” Sara jokes. “She’s not as good with names though.”

“Alex forgot Sara’s name, the next morning,” Kara informs Lena smugly. “We don’t let her live it down.”

“Understandably,” Lena chuckles. She’s certain she’ll never be able to look at Alex Danvers the same way again; thank goodness their shared class was over.

“Am I really that drunk?” A male voice chimes in. “Or do I see the infamous Captain Lance attempting to steal my date?”

Kara stiffens.

“Grayson,” Sara greets, rising to her feet. “Look what the cat dragged in.”

“Sara!” Grayson beams. He’s clearly surprised to see her, but seems genuinely delighted too. He turns to face Lena. 

“Sara is the only person I’ve met that can seduce a woman faster than myself,” he informs Lena. She can practically hear Kara’s teeth grind together. Interesting.

“Is Babs here?” Sara asks, embracing him as they both carefully maneuver their glasses out of the way. “We won’t play Gotham for a while yet and she still owes me a drink for breaking my rib.”

Grayson shakes his head and chuckles. “I’m here for business, I’m afraid. Bruce sent me here to rep the Wayne family at the Luthor Corp New Year's Gala, so he can go shack up with Selina in Monaco instead.”

“Lucky you,” Sara chortles. “Are Jason and Tim here too? I thought Gotham just played Metropolis.”

“Just me tonight,” Grayson shoots Lena a soft smile. “And it’s not too bad once you find where they hide the good company.”

Men do nothing for her, but Lena can admit in the most factual way possible — Dick Grayson makes a rather decent flirt.

Kara squares her shoulders at Grayson, jutting a hand between him and Lena. “Hi. Kara Danvers.”

Oh, boy. It’s unmistakably territorial.

The whole situation is laughable, really. For the second time in under an hour, Kara Danvers looks ready to fight someone, and Lena has the front-row seat. Despite the scotch in her veins, Lena easily figures out why — _she’s jealous_. She goes to lean back against her chair, only to discover Kara’s other arm has suddenly appeared across it.

“Pleasure to meet you, Miss Danvers,” Grayson says, shaking her hand. If he notes Kara’s defensive posture, he doesn’t react to it. “Dick Grayson.”

Sara hands a drink over to Kara, practically forcing her to release Grayson’s hand to accept it. 

Lena’s never seen Kara this wired up.

She doesn’t know why she does it. Sara would be over the line — too close to real — but Grayson? He would work.

Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s the irritating fact that the universe seems determined to intertwine Kara’s path with hers, maybe it’s the built-up frustration from a night dealing with Lillian, or maybe it’s just straight up hot to watch Kara get territorial. 

But one motive or another, Lena decides to add fuel to the fire of Kara’s jealousy.

“Oh, please, Gray,” Lena says, adding a playful lilt to her voice. “If my mother hears you actually enjoyed yourself tonight, you’ll never get invited back.” 

She gets to watch in amusement as Kara’s hand tightens around her glass, knuckles turning white at the familiarity of the nickname.

“What a shame that would be,” Grayson muses, holding eye contact with her. It works in Lena’s favor that he naturally comes off as flirty. 

She can practically feel Kara vibrating with jealousy. 

That’ll be enough. 

Now that she’s had her fun, Lena reaches over her shoulder to stroke the back of Kara’s other hand resting across the back of her chair. Faster than a snapped rubber band, the blonde instantly relaxes beside her and intertwines their fingers together on Lena’s bare shoulder.

“Kara is a friend of mine from school — she’s a rather accomplished basketball player,” Lena continues.

Grayson’s eyes go wide in recognition. “Of course! Supergirl! From what I hear, you’re better than your cousin.”

“Can confirm,” Sara pipes up. Lena had almost forgotten she was there watching the whole scene unfold. “Once Kara joins the league, I’ll actually have to work to win.”

“What, Lance, is my girlfriend not enough competition for you?” Grayson chuckles. “I’m telling Babs.”

“Hey, no one likes a snitch, _Dick_ ,” Sara warns. Grayson shoots Lena a look as if to say: _See? The ‘dick’ title must be well-earned._

“Besides,” Sara continues, taking a swig of her scotch. “Babs is good, but none of us can hold a candle to Hot Stuff here.”

Lena turns to give Kara an intrigued look, quirking an eyebrow. Kara flushes bright red.

“Well ladies,” Grayson says, taking a final gulp of his whiskey, “This has been an absolute pleasure, but I’m afraid it’s time for us to part.”

“Where you going, Dick?” Sara asks. “Hot date?”

“I can’t have Bruce thinking I behaved myself the entire time I was here, can I?” Grayson jokes. “But I’d rather not drag you all down with me, this time.”

There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes as he bows out and strolls across the room on a leisurely warpath, right over to the massive champagne fountain in the center of the room.

“Oh, he’s not gonna …” Kara trails off. 

He certainly is.

Grayson walks right up to the edge of the fountain, turns around to send a final wink in their direction, holds his arms up out at his sides (whiskey still in hand), and gracefully falls backwards into the pool of champagne.

“Oh my god,” Lena gasps, letting out a giggle of surprise.

“He didn’t,” Kara gawks. 

Sara is just as stunned. It doesn’t last long, as the three of them end up nearly crying with laughter as Grayson pulls in the two poor attendants that try to fish him out, pretending to slip and flounder in the basin.

“Well, I see I missed all the fun,” a voice says behind Lena.

“Andrea!” Lena whips around in surprise, immediately retracting her hand from Kara’s.

“I go smoke a joint outside for _ten minutes_ and Dick Grayson falls in the champagne fountain,” Andrea whines. “I always miss the fun.”

Sara nods a welcome at Andrea, a sly smile on her face. “Hello.”

“Hi,” Andrea returns. Her voice is an octave higher than usual, not quite high enough to be fake but definitely not normal — it’s her flirting voice. _Oh_. That can’t be right. Lena tries not to react with visible surprise, but seriously, _what the hell is happening_ tonight?

“Sara Lance,” Sara holds out a hand.

“Andrea Rojas,” Andrea returns in the same flirty timbre. They shake hands for a second too long. Kara seems to notice too, shooting Lena a quizzical glance. Lena gives an almost imperceptible shrug in response.

“And you already know Kara Danvers,” Lena adds, motioning to the blonde beside her.

“Nice to see you,” Andrea smiles politely, shooting Lena an inquisitive look.

“If I wasn’t liable to get drug tested at any time, I’d ask to bum a hit,” Sara’s voice is wistful.

“That’s a shame,” Andrea smiles slyly. “I suppose you’ll just have to live vicariously through me.”

“I suppose I will,” Sara’s eyes rake down Andrea’s form-fitting dress. “Would you like a drink, Miss Rojas? I’m due for another scotch.” Sara toys with her now-empty glass for emphasis.

“I could use a glass of champagne, actually,” Andrea says. “Lead the way, Miss Lance.”

“Please, call me Sara,” Sara smiles like the cat who caught the canary.

The instant it’s just the two of them, Kara turns to Lena and says, “I have _so_ many questions, Luthor.”

“So do I, Danvers,” Lena snaps back. “Why didn’t you tell me you were in Metropolis?”

Kara’s jaw clenches, a steely, hard look across her face. “I didn’t think you’d care.”

“What the hell does that mean, Kara?” Lena asks.

“It doesn’t mean anything,” Kara brushes her off. “My turn. Were you on a date with Dick Grayson?”

“I met Grayson tonight,” Lena replies sharply. If Kara’s going to be in a mood, then she sure as hell is too. “Lillian tried to set me up with him.”

A sour expression crosses Kara’s face, which brings Lena a bit of amusement.

“Doesn’t Wayne Enterprises have this big rivalry with Luthor Corp?” Kara rambles. “And I take it Andrea doesn’t know about us, since you yanked your hand away?”

“Luthor Corp’s rivalry with Wayne Enterprises is civil,” Lena says, “We have a few joint philanthropic efforts. And no, Andrea doesn’t know about our arrangement.”

“Hmph.”

“So,” Lena asks, fixing Kara with a poised, piercing look. “You want to tell me what that silent pissing contest with Sara was?”

“What pissing contest?” Kara suddenly plays innocent.

Lena gives her a disbelieving look. “The one where you almost punched your friend for flirting with me.”

“I didn’t almost punch Sara,” Kara objects. 

Lena rolls her eyes. “Kara Danvers, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were _jealous_.”

“Well do you?” Kara snaps.

“Do I what?” Lena asks.

“Know better,” Kara’s voice is sharp as a knife. “I’m not jealous over you, Luthor.”

Ouch. For some reason, that cuts deeper than any of the comments Lillian has made to her since she’s been home in Metropolis. 

Lena can feel herself turn ice cold as she rises to her feet.

She takes a deep inhale, jutting her chin out at Kara. “Clearly. You’re a _ray of sunshine_ tonight, aren’t you, Danvers?” she seethes.

Kara’s face falls. “Wait, Lena,” she says softly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

Lena waits, still as stone, for Kara to continue.

“I … I might be jealous,” Kara mumbles. She inhales and stands up straight, meeting Lena’s frosty eyes. “I wasn’t sure where things stood between us since we aren’t in National City.”

_Oh_ , Lena realizes, _this is the result of her silence_.

Kara takes a deep breath before continuing. “ _I was jealous_. Of Sara, when she was hitting on you. And that Grayson guy, even though I know I shouldn’t be. It just seemed like …”

“It’s alright,” Lena soothes, melting down a bit. Kara’s apology is so genuine and heartfelt, it’s easy to accept. 

She reaches up to play with Kara’s shirt collar. “You have nothing to be jealous of, _Supergirl_. I didn’t know Sara was your friend at first when she approached me. You came over right before I told her,” Lena says. “And Grayson just helped Andrea and I escape from the gala. Though, admittedly, I might’ve been trying to rile you up with him.”

“Rile me up?” Kara frowns. “Why?”

“I don’t really know,” Lena admits. “It seemed like a good outlet at the time.”

“Outlet?” Kara’s forehead crinkle appears. “Oh. You had that party tonight. Family stuff?”

Lena nods before she can process what she’s doing. “I … I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Kara gives her an understanding, soft smile. One of her hands caresses Lena’s bare wrist. “I imagine the break is hard for you.”

“I can’t wait to get back to National City,” Lena confesses.

“Me too,” Kara agrees. “This is the longest I’ve been away from Alex in a while.”

Lena hums sympathetically. Her heart aches a little, longing for the familiar warmth of her old memories of her and Lex. This trip was the closest she had felt to him since Lionel’s death. Once inseparable as kids, now four-thousand miles apart. Oh, how times change.

“Why doesn’t Alex visit her cousin too?” Lena asks. She suddenly realizes Alex — who by all accounts seems to always orbit near Kara — isn’t here. And Alex wasn’t at Lex’s party with Kara and Clark either.

“Oh, Alex and Clark aren’t really related,” Kara gives a vague answer. 

Lena would follow up, but at that exact moment, both her and Kara get an eyeful of Andrea and Sara standing together, whispering a bit too close to be friendly.

“More importantly — Sara’s gonna fuck your friend,” Kara informs her, nodding in their direction.

“Oh, no,” Lena waves a hand. “Andrea’s straight.”

Kara gives a skeptical look. “Right. Okay, well, I know Sara and she’s about three minutes away from getting into your friend’s pants.”

“Huh,” Lena glances back over at them, re-analyzing. Andrea _was_ flirting earlier, though that brings up more questions than it answers. Yet sure enough, Sara’s got a hand low on the small of Andrea’s back and Andrea is pushing up against Sara’s chest, one hand toying with the hem of her pant pocket.

“If you want me to stop that, you need to tell me _now_ ,” Kara warns.

Lena pauses for a minute. Andrea is a grown woman and can make her own decisions — apparently not the decisions of the ‘tragically straight’ though — and Sara seems more than capable of handling a potentially messy situation.

“Let her,” Lena decides. “If Andrea is distracted, I can do what I’ve wanted to do all night.”

“What’s that?” Kara lights up, practically glowing with excitement.

“Oh … you know,” Lena plays coy. “Find myself a nice girl …”

“And take her home?” Kara plays along.

“Why wait?” Lena gives her a look. “I’m not in a patient mood.”

Kara gives her a curious look. “You mean …”

“Bathroom, now,” Lena says, already pulling Kara by the hand.

“I thought you said no hooking up in bathrooms?” Kara asks.

“No _seedy dive bar_ bathrooms,” Lena states. “This isn’t a seedy dive bar.”

“No, it’s not,” Kara agrees with a twinkle in her eye. “Sara’s gonna be pissed if I have sex in her suit, but I don’t care.”

Ah, so that explains why Kara’s clothes don't quite fit right. 

“We’ll be careful,” Lena promises.

They have the decency to wait until they're in the bathroom stall before they start making out. Lena goes in first and Kara slips in behind her. The instant the door gets latched behind them, Lena practically jumps Kara’s bones, marking her face with dark lipstick.

“So why … does Sara call … you ‘Hot Stuff’?” Lena whispers between kisses.

Kara playfully pulls Lena’s bottom lip between her teeth, then lets it go. “Nickname from basketball camp; ‘hot hand’ means a player’s been making a lot of good shots.”

“Oh,” Lena gasps, in both understanding and pleasure as Kara moves to suck on her neck. “Here I thought it might’ve had something to do with your looks.”

“Well …” Lena can feel the smirk spread across the blonde’s face. “It might have two meanings.”

“Spare me the bragging,” Lena rolls her eyes. “Find a better use for that mouth.”

“Yeah, I can do that,” Kara exhales with a grin, pulling up Lena’s gown.

Her excitement quickly wanes as she realizes just how long the garment is.

“Why are gowns so long …?” Kara whines, still hiking up fabric around Lena’s hips.

“A modern-day take on the chastity belt?” Lena suggests.

“Oh,” Kara gives her a hungry look. “There’s _nothing_ chaste about the way you look in that.”

A hot blush spreads across Lena’s face. She forgot how instantly wet she gets when Kara looks at her like that. It’s enough to drive a woman wild.

Finally, they’ve got enough of the fabric up around Lena’s hips that they stand a chance of making this work.

“How do you want it?” Kara asks, fingers circling over Lena’s entrance.

“Two,” Lena states. “Deep and fast.”

Boy, does Kara deliver. Those strong forearms are good for more than just hours of dribbling a basketball. And those long fingers too.

“I’m close,” Lena gasps. “I’m—”

“—no, I want you in my mouth,” Kara growls, dropping to her knees. The position is awkward and crammed within the confines of the stall, but Lena couldn’t fucking care less. Kara Danvers is on her knees for her, her dangerously-talented mouth on Lena’s clit, and she's about to bring Lena to orgasm in a bathroom stall.

“Fuck, I missed y—this,” Lena gasps, coming on Kara’s face.

Once Lena’s finished, Kara stumbles back to her feet, licking her lips clean. She then wipes her mouth against the back of her palm, removing the remnants of Lena’s wetness and lipstick. 

“Is that right?” A cocky grin sprawls out over the blonde’s face.

Now that her legs are back under her, Lena takes a hold of Kara’s pants by the belt and jerks both open. Her hands are instantly down Kara’s tight boxers, rubbing her clit.

“Oh,” Kara gasps, sucking in a deep breath as she melts into Lena’s hand.

“What was that?” Lena teases. “Not so cocky right now?”

“Uh … mh … yuh,” Kara mumbles. “I’m …. Oh, _fuck_.”

“Already?” Lena teases, one sharp eyebrow raised.

“You’re hot,” Kara shrugs, the post-orgasm bliss settling in over her shoulders. “Plus it’s been awhile since we’ve done this.”

“Don’t worry, _darling_ , I find it endearing,” Lena coos. “I’m glad to know what kind of a hold I have over you.”

“Psh,” Kara rolls her eyes, then pulls Lena in for a kiss.

Lena holds the kiss for a moment longer than she should, but it feels so nice to be in Kara’s embrace again. To receive such warm, tender affections so freely.

“You know, I think I could go for a second round,” Kara informs her as they break apart, grinning coyly. “It’s pretty easy to sneak girls back into Kal’s house.”

“Voice of experience there, Danvers?” Lena raises an eyebrow.

“Uhm … I plead the fifth,“ Kara blushes. “So — what do you say? Come back with me?” A gentle hand caresses Lena’s arm, leaving fire in its wake.

Lena bites her lower lip. “As tempting of an offer as that is, I should probably go back to the Manor. Lillian has certainly noticed my prison break.”

“That’s fair,” Kara nods. “Mind if I walk you out? We weren’t exactly quiet, and it’ll be a lot more fun if I get to show you off on the way out.”

“Show me off?” Lena gives her an unimpressed look. “You really are a fuckboy, aren’t you?”

“Fuckboy?” Kara pouts. “I’m not a fuckboy.”

“You are every bit a fuckboy, Kara,” Lena chuckles. “We literally just had sex in a bathroom stall. Now, come on, fix your pants.”

Kara re-fastens her belt, then looks at Lena and gestures to the stall door. “Well, since I’m a fuckboy … _ladies_ first.”

“Fuck you, Danvers,” Lena seethes, but it has zero heat.

Kara just winks.

* * *

Lena wakes up in the morning with a killer headache, a deep purple hickey on her neck (that maybe she won’t hide, just to spite Lillian), and three texts from Kara Danvers.

**_K:_ ** _thanks for a fun night last night ;) see you back in National City_

**_K:_ ** _also, did you see this?_

Below is a screenshot of a news article heading: 

**_Obliterated! Olympic gymnast, Richard Grayson, falls into champagne fountain._ **

_(Club Acrata, Metropolis.) After what seems to be a wild night of partying, Olympic gold medalist and Wayne Enterprises heir Richard Grayson—_

What a wild twenty-four hours. Lena can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all.

* * *

Lena’s sitting at the airport terminal, waiting to board a plane back to National City. Since Lex took the family plane to Paris for the manufacturing emergency, she’ll be flying back on commercial.

Delightful.

She’s currently scribbling away on her tablet, almost finished making some suggestions on the newest prototype of the Luthor Corp ‘Nanoknife’. It’s intended to use the latest Luthor Corp nanotech to aid in the surgical removal of malignant tissue, but it’s far from optimal. Lex isn’t sure about it’s viability, but Lena is optimistic they can get it to where it needs to be.

“Excuse me, is this seat taken?” A voice interrupts Lena's thoughts.

“Help yourself,” Lena gestures, not even looking upwards from her tablet.

“So, headed to National City?” the voice asks. Lena wants to scream in irritation.

The last thing Lena wants to make right now is small talk, not while she’s busy trying to finish up this schematic and _totally not focusing on the flying death trap she’s about to board_ , so she turns to tell her new neighbor just that — when she sees _that_ pair of steel blue eyes smiling back at her.

“Kara?!” Lena exclaims.

The blonde looks like a walking amalgam of holiday attire. She’s got an oversized red flannel thrown over top of what Lena can only describe as the _ugliest_ holiday sweater she’s ever seen, jeans, and boots. Who wears boots to the airport?

“Don’t act so surprised, Luthor,” Kara smiles in greeting. “I saw you just a few days ago.”

“Yeah, but the odds …” Lena trails off. The statistical odds they would choose the same day and the same flight to fly back are … small. “It’s good to see you.” She actually means it too — there’s something about Kara's presence that instantly soothes a part of her. 

A small part. Infinitesimally small.

“Why are you headed back so soon?” Kara asks. “I have to go back for basketball, but you still have another three weeks of break?”

“Andrea went to visit her mother in London, Lex is on a business trip in France, and Jack is in Opal City with his family,” Lena says. “And I’ve had enough one-on-one time with Lillian to last a lifetime.”

Kara gives her a sympathetic nod. “Makes sense. If I had a private penthouse to go to relax in and escape that, I would.”

“Don’t you?” Lena feels calm enough to tease her. “At least from the hours of ten-at-night to three-in-the-morning?”

“I can’t confirm or deny,” Kara catches her meaning. “But if I did, I imagine my time there wouldn’t be spent _relaxing_.”

“Indeed,” Lena agrees. “So how was your time in Metropolis? I realize I didn’t have a chance to ask you the other night.”

“It was great!” Kara beams. “Jon — Kal’s baby son — is _so_ cute! And tiny. It was wonderful to spend time with them all; I don’t get to see Clark and Lois nearly enough.”

“I’m glad,” Lena says, jotting down one final note. “Family seems very important to you.”

“It is,” Kara agrees vehemently. Her voice is a bit … off, and Lena can’t place exactly what her tone is laced with. It sounds as strong as steel though.

“So what’s the story with the sweater?” Lena’s eyes trail down Kara’s outfit with amusement.

“It’s my ugly holiday sweater!” Kara grins, pulling the material out so that Lena can see it even clearer. It’s bright red and green, with a scared-looking dinosaur in a santa hat cowering under the impending arrival of a meteor. It’s absolutely nonsensical.

“I can see that,” Lena muses.

“It’s a Danvers’ family tradition to wear ugly sweaters for the holiday,” Kara explains.

“Ah,” Lena says. “How adorable.”

“Hey, at least I didn’t wear _heels_ to the airport!” Kara teases.

Lena looks down at her shoes. Sure, they’re heels, but they’re her comfiest pair — they might as well be slippers as far as Lillian is concerned.

“Heels are easier to take off than boots, Danvers,” Lena retorts, nudging Kara’s foot with her own.

“Fair point,” Kara says. “I was hoping it would snow though. Hey, mind watching my bags while I go grab a bagel?”

“No, that’s fine,” Lena agrees.

Kara makes it only three steps away before she turns back. “Have you eaten yet today?”

Lena’s stomach churns. She never eats before a plane ride. Yet, she can’t lie to Kara’s earnest face either. “Uh, no, I try not to eat before a flight.”

“Lena,” Kara frowns. “That’s a _terrible_ plan. I’m going to get you something. You like scones, right?”

“Kara, you don’t—” Lena begins to protest, but Kara’s already taken off again before she can finish. Wait, when did Kara learn she likes scones?

“Ten minutes to boarding for Flight 3142 to National City,” the PA announcement rings out.

The dread sets in instantly, chilling Lena to her core. Her stomach must’ve dropped into her feet by now. Her heart beat is already starting to pick up, and the only thing her brain can fixate on, other than her impending flight, is Kara’s bright blue suitcase at her feet.

That gives Lena an idea.

* * *

“So,” Kara smiles down at Lena, “I don’t suppose you had anything to do with my ticket getting ‘randomly upgraded’ to first-class?”

Kara’s never been in first-class before, but she doesn’t think they do ‘random upgrades’.

“No,” Lena states. She doesn’t turn to look at Kara when she plops down next to her in the large, cushiony plane seats. That’s odd. That’s not the reaction Kara was expecting.

“Lena?” Kara asks.

“Mhm?” Lena gives a forced hum.

Kara gives her a concerned once-over. Something’s definitely wrong. Lena’s practically oozing anxiety into the cabin air; she’s sitting ram-rod straight, staring a hole in the headrest in front of her, while her hands are digging into the armrests so tightly Kara wonders if there won’t be a bunch of small cuts left behind by her manicured nails.

“Lena,” Kara states more forcefully, hoping to get Lena to turn to look at her. It doesn’t work.

Lena’s face seems impossibly pale, almost sickly.

“Lena, are you feeling alright?” Kara asks. She sets a comforting hand on Lena’s forearm, and she can feel how tense her muscles are underneath. Lena is definitely not okay, and Kara’s protective instincts go into overdrive trying to find the source.

“Yes.” That’s the most obvious lie Kara has ever heard (and she’s heard Alex ramble about how her sexual experiences with guys weren’t _that_ unsatisfactory).

“No, you’re not,” Kara calls her out. “Lena, what’s wrong?”

“I-” Lena’s voice catches in her throat as the plane begins to roll forward. “Fuck, this was a _terrible_ idea to bring you up here.” Her voice sounds wet with fear.

Suddenly, it clicks.

“Lena,” Kara says, the parts pieced together. “Are you afraid of flying?”

Lena nods in small but vigorous motions.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Kara slides her palm over Lena’s claw-hand to cup it. Lena clutches it like a lifeline. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

“I’m … afraid of flying,” Lena confesses.

“Yeah,” Kara chuckles through an exhale. “I realized. It’s gonna be okay. Can you look at me?”

Lena, after a moment, begrudgingly turns to look at Kara — terror filling her gorgeous green eyes.

“Do you trust me?” Kara asks.

“Yes,” Lena says, swallowing roughly. Kara tries to ignore how that one simple answer pulls at her heart. She needs to keep Lena distracted.

“Okay, good,” Kara smiles. “Because I’m about to talk your ear off about my days in Metropolis! My favorite night was spent out at this club. It had a champagne fountain. There was this guy I was jealous of who ended up jumping into that very fountain, actually. And I met this really fun girl there, and we had a lot of _fun_ together in the bathroom, even though she’s not the kind of girl you’d expect that from. And she looked amazing — oh, man — like the kind of woman that makes people drop to their knees.”

“Didn’t you?” Lena tries to smirk. Not a smooth gesture, but a noble attempt at one.

“Drop to my knees?” Kara smiles slyly, feigning innocence. “I don’t know. That’s just between me, her, and that bathroom stall.”

Lena rolls her eyes. She looks a bit more relaxed now. Kara can feel from the tilt in the seats that the plane is definitely off the ground now, but they haven’t leveled out yet so she needs to keep going.

“But, I was in Metropolis for more than a hot date in the club,” Kara smiles. “I got to meet my nephew, which is a big deal for me after—” Kara suddenly drops that sentence and finds another. 

“Did I tell you Clark’s wife, Lois, is actually Lucy’s sister? But they do not get along. At all,” Kara says.

Those words seem to register with Lena, who gives Kara a mildly surprised look at the information.

“Yeah, it makes family gatherings interesting,” Kara confirms. “Her dad is a four-star general, and a five-star asshole … terrible parent.”

Lena lets out a soft snort. “Oh, I have one of those too.”

Kara nods sympathetically and continues. “Anyways, Lucy and James came over to the Kents’ to shoot around; Clark had a basketball court built with the house--”

Lena interrupts with a scoff.

“You can’t even,” Kara protests with a laugh. “He needs it for work! I’m sure you know plenty of rich people that have more ridiculous rooms in their houses.”

Lena’s eyes roll as she nods a confirmation. “A girl I went to boarding school with had a racetrack in her backyard. Her family makes cars, but still.”

“See? Exactly,” Kara says. “Besides, Clark just has half a court, technically. It’s mostly for shooting practice.”

“Practical,” Lena quips.

“Hey! I’ll have you know, once I make my millions in the league, I’m going to build myself one too,” Kara says.

Lena shakes her head in amusement. “Of course you will.”

“Anyways …” Kara drawls. “Lucy and Lois got into a _huge_ fight after, like they always do. I swear, Lucy is going to be a lawyer someday; I’ve never met someone as good as arguing as her. But the funny part? Guess what they were arguing about … who had the TV remote last.”

Lena gives her an incredulous look.

“Yup,” Kara nods. “A nuclear-scale fight over the TV remote. It was on the couch, by the way.”

“They’re definitely siblings,” Lena says.

“They are,” Kara agrees. “Speaking of — how did things go with Lex? I saw you guys went to the Meteors game together.”

Lena takes a deep inhale. “Things were … good, actually. He seemed more like his old self.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Kara smiles. “And I have some good news for you.”

“What?”

“We’re done with take-off,” Kara says. “We’re fully in the air.”

“Oh,” Lena’s eyebrows shoot upwards. “That was … not miserable. Thank you, Kara.”

“I should be the one thanking you,” Kara teases. “I’m about to demolish some first-class snacks.”

Lena rolls her eyes, but smiles all the same. “You and your stomach.”

The pilot announces over the intercom that the plane has reached cruising altitude, and passengers are free to resume using their devices.

“So what do you usually do to pass time on your flights?” Kara asks.

Lena shrugs. “Homework, or look over some projects for Lex. Or read something. I like to keep my mind busy.”

“No movies?” Kara frowns, pulling her laptop out of her backpack.

Lena shakes her head. “Can’t seem to relax enough to enjoy them.”

“Oh,” Kara says. “Well, if you want to give it another go, Winn sent me a bootleg copy of the new Star Wars. You in?” She holds up the tangled wires of her earbuds, pulling one apart from the other.

Lena looks at the dangling earbud, clearly conflicted. After a moment, Lena plucks the earbud from Kara’s fingers with a bracing exhale.

“I can’t say no to Star Wars, can I?” Lena quips. “I’ll give it a try.”

Kara grins and croaks, “Do, or do not. There is no try.”

Against all odds, Kara Danvers manages to make Lena Luthor laugh on an airplane.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was fun to write jealous Kara and himbo Dick Grayson. That's it for the winter break now; very excited to get these two back in National City. Stay posted for more!
> 
> Also, since the scene with Alex and Sara was heavily inspired by one of my favorite scenes in the whole show, gotta give credit where it's due:  
> "Crisis on Earth-X, Part 1." Supergirl. CW. Berlanti Productions, DC Comics, Warner Bros. Television, Vancouver. 27 Nov 2017. Television.


	10. dangerous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara and Lena return to National City.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the continued feedback; it really does mean an incredible amount. I read every comment, and it definitely helps me figure out what does and doesn't work for this story. So again: thank you, thank you, thank you …
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Warnings: Lillian Luthor is still a terrible, homophobic mother.

* * *

Things feel different back in National City after the break.

It normally does, sure, as everyone adjusts to another semester, new routines, and fresh surroundings. There are changes, as always; Mike broke up with Imra, James and Lucy are ‘officially’ dating, there’s new construction on the highway. Little reminders that time has passed in their absence. 

After a few weeks at home, it’s normal to feel a bit rusty as they get back into the swing of things. 

So why does Kara feel better than ever before?

Not that she’s complaining — she loves being back in National City. Basketball has resumed, the break has rejuvenated her play, and she’s surrounded by her friends again. She _should_ feel back in her element. She does. But it’s even stronger now, like she’s unlocked a whole new level to things.

It definitely has nothing to do with the fact that her and Lena came back _together_. Together as in on the same plane, of course (and as a little souvenir, Kara’s hand still aches a bit from how forcefully Lena had clutched it during their descent). Together on a plane. There’s no other way they would fit that word. 

They’re still very much just friends-with-benefits.

Friends-with-benefits who now do sleepovers.

That’s okay, right? No danger there.

Yeah, it’s fine. Life is good.

Kara texts Lena after practice one night. School technically hasn’t resumed yet, as there’s still another week or so of break remaining for the general populace. But since Lena came back early, Kara’s been careful to ensure the other woman still gets some social interaction. She highly suspects Lena can fall into some hermit-like tendencies without someone to extract her — and since Jack’s still out of town, the duty falls to Kara.

_hey luthor, did you eat yet? just finished getting sushi with the team but i’m still hungry_

**_hot girl bummer:_ ** _Of course you are. I could eat, I got distracted coding and didn’t realize how late it is._

_how does big belly burger sound? i’m craving meat and there’s one nearby_

**_hot girl bummer:_ ** _Delicious, actually. Burgers are my favorite food._

_really? i can’t believe i didn’t know that_

**_hot girl bummer:_ ** _Yes, Lillian can’t stand that I’ll stoop so low as to eat ‘finger-foods’._

_what?? it tastes even better when you get to eat food with your hands!_

**_hot girl bummer:_ ** _I fully agree._

_good :) text me your order and i’ll be over in thirty_

The next text to Kara’s phone is Lena’s burger order, which she quickly copy-and-pastes into her notes app. There’s already a page for it under the header ‘Food Lena Likes’; the other things on the list are: scotch, black coffee, bacon, scones (it’s still a work-in-progress, okay?). It’s just so she doesn’t have to put in the effort of memorizing things — it’s not important information, after all — but then she has it in case she needs to reference it again.

Kara almost drops the takeout bag as Lena opens the door to her apartment. 

She looks genuinely perfect.

Her hair is up in an immaculate bun, but her makeup is lighter than usual, and she’s got on Kara’s red flannel that the blonde loaned to her on their flight back to National City. But the thing Kara _really_ can’t get out of her head? Lena’s not wearing pants. It’s just the flannel — long enough to cover everything, but not really. 

It draws Kara’s eyes right to Lena’s shapely bare legs. Oh, wow.

It’s way warmer inside than Kara’s own apartment, since Lena doesn’t have to consider anything as nominal as a power bill, and it makes Kara feel a bit flushed.

“Ugh, that smells delicious.” Lena grabs the bag from Kara’s hands, not at all aware of how Kara’s brain has completely shut off.

_Lena’s not wearing pants._

“Yup,” Kara squeaks, watching her perfect ass walk away into the kitchen.

_Lena’s not wearing pants._

“It’s really warm in here,” Kara gulps, following her usual routine to enter the apartment. Shoes off by the door, backpack down on the foyer tiles, jacket over the back of the closest dining room chair.

“Yeah, I can’t stand being cold,” Lena says from the kitchen. “And I’m not really one for layers.”

“I can see that,” Kara turns the corner, eyes flickering down Lena’s body.

“Keep it in your pants, Danvers,” Lena chuckles. She gives Kara a wink as she walks past into the living room. “For now.”

Kara follows, hot on her heels.

The burgers are delicious. They eat and chat; Kara tells Lena all about practice and how she made a shot from half-court, messing around with Lucy on a break, and Lena explains the bugs she’s trying to fix in her coding. Admittedly, Kara’s eyes glaze over a little when she starts discussing ‘function loops’, but Lena throws a fry at her and she tunes right back into those scandalized dimples.

Somehow, Lena manages to look absolutely divine the entire time, burger juice dripping down from the corner of her mouth and between her fingers. Kara’s too warm to blame it just on the ambient air.

“Wow, I didn’t realize how hungry I was,” Lena muses, trying to wipe back her poise with a long-gone napkin.

“No matter how full I am, I could always eat more Big Belly Burger,” Kara says, polishing off her fries with a very messy hand. She’s personally given up on trying to be a clean eater — it’s so much easier to just wash up once the job is done in its entirety.

“You could always eat _more_ ,” Lena corrects. “You’re a bottomless pit, Danvers.”

“What can I say?” Kara grins. “I’m _insatiable_.”

Lena cocks an eyebrow. “Oh, are you?”

“You haven’t noticed?” Kara slides closer to her, leaning in so their lips are tauntingly close. “I like to _eat_.”

“You’re being so subtle right now, darling,” Lena deadpans.

Kara shrugs. “I never said I was subtle.”

“No,” Lena chuckles, grabbing Kara’s chin and pulling it towards her. “No, you’re certainly not.”

She tastes like burger, but all Kara can think about is how impossibly soft Lena’s lips are against her own. It only amplifies her desire.

“You know,” Kara pouts as Lena pulls away. “Dinner’s not complete without dessert.”

“Is that so?” Lena gives a sly smile. “And exactly _what_ is on the menu?”

The look in Kara’s eyes speaks for her. _You, Lena_.

* * *

Despite the fact they start in the living room, they finish in the bed — in more ways than one. The realization hits Lena’s stomach like a mallet: it’s the first time they’ve had sex both sober. 

That’s incredibly dangerous.

They wash up afterwards; Kara redresses in her underwear and Lena throws on a robe.

“Oh, shoot,” Lena says with a start, “We left the food out.”

“I got it,” Kara hops up to her feet, waving Lena back down. “I finally memorized what cabinet you hid the trashcan in.”

That should probably bother Lena, but it doesn’t even register.

“I didn’t _hide_ it.” Lena objects. “The trash should always be kept out of sight.”

“If that’s the case, what are those raisin cookies doing out then?” Kara quips, walking out of the room.

“Kara Danvers!” Lena yells after her, but Kara’s already out of sight. 

How dare she? Those raisin cookies reminded Lena of her childhood! Damn Kara Danvers and her ridiculous sweet-tooth that prevented her from enjoying a good, traditional Irish soda-bread cookie appropriately.

While she’s gone, Lena gets through a few more pages of her latest book, her reading lamp positioned to provide adequate light in the dark bedroom.

Kara pops back into the room a few minutes later. “All cleaned up.”

“Thank you,” Lena nods.

“How’s your book?” Kara points to the novel in her hand. “What kind of books do you like to read?”

“It’s good,” Lena says, glancing at the cover even though she already knows what it is. “It’s about the discovery of exoplanets. And I tend to favor non-fiction primarily, barring a few exceptions.”

“You like learning about space?” Kara asks, flopping down on the bed next to her.

“I do,” Lena confirms. “I think it’s fascinating.”

“I do too,” Kara murmurs, drawing a circle on Lena’s exposed thigh. 

It makes her heart race, but she ignores it. It’s just Kara being touchy; she’s just like that.

“I used to be obsessed with space as a kid,” Kara continues. “Every night, my dad and I would go out and look at the constellations for hours.”

There’s a hint of yearning in Kara’s tone, but for what, Lena doesn’t know. A forlorn, wistful twinkle finds its home in Kara’s eyes as a hand comes up to touch her necklace.

“Kara …” Lena says slowly, noting the motion. “Can I ask what your necklace is from?”

She doesn’t respond for so long Lena half-wonders if she’s fallen asleep.

“It was my dad’s,” a soft voice confesses. “He’s … gone now. It’s one of the last things I have of him. Kal has a matching one from his dad too — they were brothers.”

“I’m sorry, Kara,” Lena whispers, grabbing a hold of Kara’s free hand. She means it too — she knows how hard it is to lose a father figure, whether he was a good one or not.

“It’s okay,” Kara exhales. “I always think of him when I see the stars. Like he’s still around, just a room over or something. You know?”

“Yeah, I do,” Lena agrees. Flashes of an old wooden desk and a fountain pen, resting in an elegant stand, cross her mind. A snippet in time; a moment in Lionel’s study as a young girl.

A minute of silence passes as they each sink into small memories.

“Do you mind if I stay?” Kara asks cautiously, like she’s laying on glass.

“Feel free,” Lena exhales, pulling her hand away to gesture to the far side of the bed, “Just stay—”

“—on my side,” Kara finishes. “Got it. Goodnight, Lena.”

“Goodnight,” Lena wishes. She closes her eyes and looks for sleep, the warmth of the bed ushering it close.

(For the third time in Kara’s company, Lena sleeps perfectly.)

At least for most of the night.

“Lena!”

She’s awoken several hours later by an incredibly panicked Kara Danvers, her face pale in the light from her phone screen.

“Lena!” Kara gasps in a panic. “Do you have a car?”

The look of fear in Kara’s eyes chills Lena right to the bone. Her heart leaps out of her chest, abruptly ripping the comfort of sleep away from her.

“Yes,” Lena murmurs, sitting upright. She can feel her pulse throughout every limb of her body. “Wait … why?”

“I snoozed my alarm too much,” Kara explains. “I’m gonna be late for practice. And anyone who’s late to practice the day before a game doesn’t get to start! Lena, I’ve never _not_ started a game and—”

“—Relax,” Lena reaches a soothing hand out into the darkness. “I’ll take you.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Kara prays, ripping the covers off both of them in a hurry.

“How long do we have?” Lena asks, gathering her hair and stringing it up into a loose ponytail.

“I need to be outside the gym in the next twenty minutes,” Kara replies. Lena hears the tell-tale thud of Kara trying to put her pants on too quickly and falling over.

“I can get us there in fifteen,” Lena asserts. “Just let me get dressed, then we’ll take the elevator down to the garage; it’s under the building.”

“Lena Luthor, you’re my hero,” Kara exhales from somewhere on the floor.

Lena smiles into the confidential darkness of her apartment.

* * *

Kara knows Lena’s rich. 

It doesn’t bother her. (Well, it does in the general flaws-of-capitalism sense, but it’s not like Lena has the authority to just redistribute her family’s entire wealth to something more equitable, she’s just a college kid.) But yeah, it doesn’t really bother her or make her feel inadequate.

In fact, she kind of likes it a bit. Not in a gold-digger way though; Kara will have her chance to make her own fortune in the pros, so it’s not like she needs to go down that road.

But when Kara sees Lena’s _car_ _?_ She’s a little tempted to become a sugar baby.

To call it sleek, elegant, sexy — it would all be an understatement. It’s a lightning-silver color and the chassis is clearly shaped for speed. There’s only one door on each side, and Kara half expects them to open up vertically, like all expensive cars do. And boy, does this car scream expensive.

It’s every bit _Lena_.

“Lena … _this_ is your car!?” Kara gawks.

The car beeps twice as Lena unlocks it. Sure enough, the doors swing upwards.

“Yes,” Lena says simply. “Aren’t you running late? Get in.”

She’s got a point, so Kara doesn’t delay.

“Not even Kal’s car is this nice …” Kara runs a hand over the smooth leather armrest built into the door. The whole interior is decked out in a deep, royal-red leather. Even the black floor mats look expensive, and Kara can’t quite find the confidence to set the full weight of her feet down on them.

Lena gives her a wicked smile. 

She shouldn’t look so damn good for having been asleep only a few minutes ago. Her hair is thrown up in a messy ponytail, and she’s tossed on Kara’s Comets sweatshirt with a pair of leggings that make Kara feel _very_ awake. The best and worst part is the glasses though — which Kara didn’t even process Lena wore, despite borrowing her contact solution once — but those black frames and the green eyes sheltered under them will certainly haunt her thoughts for the rest of the day.

“I only drive nice cars, Danvers. I’m a bit of a snob about my machines,” Lena jokes, but they both know it’s not a joke.

The engine roars to life with a low melodic thrum.

“Well, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised,” Kara muses, trying to refocus. “With a last name like ‘Luthor’.”

“It wasn’t always,” Lena says firmly, hands holding the wheel with authority as they exit the garage onto the street. “I may be a spoiled brat when it comes to cars, but it’s not in my DNA.”

“What?”

“I was adopted when I was four,” Lena states.

Oh.

“Oh …” Kara’s forehead crinkles. “I didn’t know that.” 

The car runs too smooth for Kara to blame the shaky feeling in her legs on it.

“Really?” Lena gives her a shocked smile. “I don’t hide it — I’m actually a bit proud of that fact. It helps … distance me from all the terrible things Lionel and Lillian have done.”

Huh.

“I …” Kara trails off, looking out of the window with tinted eyes. It’s been over a year since the last time she’s said aloud the words in her mouth. “I … I was adopted too.”

“You were?” Lena turns to glance at her, but Kara doesn’t meet her eyes, and Lena is forced to redirect her attention back to the road.

“Yeah. It’s … hard for me to talk about,” Kara says. “Eliza and Jeremiah — Alex’s parents — took me in when I was thirteen. The Danvers’ are my family now, and they’re wonderful.”

That’s all Kara can and will offer. A silence falls over the car.

“Well, if you ever want to talk, Kara …” Lena offers slowly. “I might understand more than most.”

“Thanks,” Kara smiles softly. It’s not an acceptance of the offer, but it’s not an outright denial either. She honestly doesn’t know what to do with that information. She always just assumed Lena was born into her crown. And she feels a bit guilty for it.

The steady ticking of the turn signal fills the silence that follows.

Lena drops Kara off outside the gym not long after. Kara has her pull up to the curb to shorten the distance, and by some stroke of misfortune, they’re not the only last-minute arrivals. Lucy’s black jeep idles right in front of them, instilling Kara with a deep dread.

“Thanks for the ride,” Kara says, side-eying Lucy’s jeep, waiting for the doors to open. James is likely the one driving it, so maybe Lucy had already headed inside. Hopefully.

“Sorry about waking you,” Kara tells Lena. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“I’ll be waiting,” Lena teases, a sleepy smile on her face. “Now go, Supergirl, I won’t have you being late on my behalf.”

Kara winks goodbye and slides out of the car. Instantly, Lucy jumps out of the passenger side of her jeep.

Kara’s suddenly incredibly grateful that Lena has deeply tinted windows.

“Oh, I _knew_ it was you, Lover Girl,” Lucy shouts aggressively, darting right up to Kara’s shoulder and grabbing her arm. Kara would make a run for it, really, but Lucy would just catch up with her eventually, and that would be an awfully hard conversation to have in the middle of the locker room. 

So Kara just accepts her fate.

“Good morning, Lucy!” Kara gives her an overly-chipper smile. “Running late too?”

“Yeah, James apparently forgot to set an alarm, even after I reminded him,” Lucy huffs. Kara gives a sympathetic wince for James, who will not be hearing the end of that for a while. “Way more importantly, whose car did you just get out of?!”

“Whose car?” Kara plays dumb. “I ran here.”

“Oh, you’re fucking hilarious,” Lucy barks. “I know nothing about cars but I can tell that one was expensive as shit. You’re fucking with another Rich Bitch, aren’t you?”

“No,” Kara lies. It’s about as strong as wet tissue.

“No,” Lucy’s eyes widen. “It’s not Veronica Sinclair again, is it?”

“Oh, no,” Kara retches. “Uh-uh. Never again.”

“Thank god,” Lucy sighs. “I thought I was going to have to get Alex involved.”

“Can we not do that?” Kara winces. “I don’t really need her judgment on this.”

“Tell me who it is,” Lucy states.

“No,” Kara sighs. A small part of her actually _does_ want to tell Lucy. And that’s a dangerous fact.

“You really won’t tell me, will you?” Lucy peers at her best friend suspiciously. “Whoever it is, she’s really got you whipped, doesn’t she?”

Kara flushes bright red. “No,” she croaks. “I’m just being respectful of her wishes.”

“Respectful, yeah, sure,” Lucy huffs. “Are you guys dating or something?”

“No!” Kara exclaims. “No. We’re just friends … with benefits.”

“Uh-huh.” Lucy crosses her arms over her chest while Kara pounds the access code into the locker room keypad. “And do those benefits include sleepovers and rides to campus? Because that sounds an awful lot like d—“

Kara’s saved by the opening of the door.

“You’re late!” Alex roars, jumping to her feet. “Both of you!” 

As expected, everyone in the locker room is fully dressed in their practice attire and ready to go upstairs to the gym. Nia shoots Kara a concerned look, which Kara disarms with a soft smile.

“Sorry, Alex,” Kara gives her sister a toothy grimace.

“Sorry, capt’n,” Lucy mumbles.

“Get dressed,” Alex hisses. “Quickly. You have _three_ minutes.”

“We’re not done, Danvers,” Lucy whispers, sliding her pants down.

“Yes, we are,” Kara replies under her breath, tossing her shirt off.

Nia — sitting directly across the locker room from Kara — takes an audible, crisp inhale. Kara turns around at the noise, only to see Nia looking mortified, hand over her mouth. M’gann looks ready to laugh out loud next to her.

“Damn, Little Danvers,” Maggie whistles. Fourteen heads all turn to look at Kara.

She vaguely remembers Lena having a rather sharp, fresh manicure last night. And Kara also might’ve encouraged her to use it to the full extent while they were fucking. Shit, of course, there’s still probably scratches on her shoulders and back.

“What mauled your back last night?” Maggie smirks. “A _pussy_ cat?” 

Well, fuck.

* * *

In the end, Kara’s steel weathers a storm of interrogations, and she lives to fight another day.

And fight another day, she has to.

Both the girls’ and the boys’ teams played games away today, but the whole gang made it back in time to go out to Al’s together. They’re currently all clustered around one of Al’s new pool tables. (Apparently, he’s had a very generous tipper frequenting his bar the past few months, and was able to buy some new toys because of it). Alex and Maggie disappear into the bathroom for a bit while the rest of them start a round of pool.

“Solids versus stripes,” Lucy calls. “Girls versus guys. M’gann gets to break, since she finally agreed to come out with us heathens tonight.”

“Wait, why do we get Mike?” James protests. Mike, who sunk a particularly nice shot from behind the backboard to win the boys’ game today, is the drunkest of all of them. He’s currently draped himself over Winn’s shoulders from behind, the shorter man serving as his surrogate legs for the night.

“If you win, you get to change up the teams,” Lucy says with a smirk and a wink. “Keep up, Olsen.”

The girls sweep the guys, thanks to M’gann. Kara can hold her own, but pool isn’t her strongest skill, nor her favorite bar-time activity (especially with pretty women around) — so when Alex returns from the bathroom looking slightly ruffled but satisfied, Kara hands off her pool cue and heads for the bar.

“Hey Al,” Kara greets with a smile.

“Hey there, kid,” Al grins. “Likin’ the new toys?”

“You know it,” Kara jokes. “Something new to beat Alex at.”

“Ah, you guys are good kids,” Al says. “I’m gonna miss her next year. She’s spent a lotta time here.”

“Maybe a little too much,” Kara reminds gently.

“Well, yeah, there’s that,” Al agrees. “Least I got you for another year, yeah?”

“Where else can I get the best tequila shots in town?” Kara grins.

“Speaking of, what can I get ya?” Al asks.

“Tequila sunrise,” Kara requests. She wants something pleasant to sip, to keep her hands busy.

“Ooh, fancy, kid,” Al chuckles, “You got it.”

Al makes quick work of making the cocktail, an orange concoction with red syrup on the bottom. He then shuffles over to the register to add it to Kara’s tab — at least that’s what she thought he was doing — but he hands back her card along with her drink.

“What?” Kara frowns in confusion as she picks up her debit card from the sticky bartop. Was Al cutting her off? She had barely started!

“Some chick paid off your tab,” Al explains. “And the rest of your drinks are to go on hers.”

Kara’s heart leaps into her throat. “Who?”

“One of them pretty, rich girls,” Al says. “With a fancy metal card. Over there.”

Kara follows the line of Al’s nod, only to collide with the most captivating pair of eyes she knows of. 

_Lena._

Fuck, she looks gorgeous tonight. Smoky eyes, signature red lips, perfect bare neck, and a low-cut teal dress that draws Kara’s attention right to her chest.

“Careful, Kara, that girl is dangerous,” James warns playfully, suddenly appearing beside her. He waves down Al. “Can I get another beer?”

“Sure thing, Jimmy,” Al nods, sliding a bottle over to James before walking away to his other customers.

Kara’s brow furrows, quickly averting her gaze to her friend. “Who?”

“Lena Luthor,” James nods his chin in her general direction as he leans forward against the bar. “I’ve seen her type before; so have you.”

“Oh, yeah?” Kara asks. “And what type is that?”

“You know,” James shrugs. “Ice queen. Rich Bitch. Like Lana Lang, Veronica, Siobhan …”

“You’ve been talking to Lucy!” Kara realizes. “Did she send you over here to do her dirty work?”

“Kara …” James confirms. He can’t lie to her.

“Tell her to fuck off,” Kara rolls her eyes. “I’m not telling her who I’m sleeping with.”

“Yeah, I’m not going to say that to my girlfriend, but I’ll pass along the sentiment,” James laughs. “So … who is she?”

“You too?” Kara groans. “You’re all getting on my nerves.”

“It’s not actually Lena Luthor, is it?” James asks, glancing back over the bar to where Kara’s eyes had lingered before. Lena’s no longer there, and Kara’s not sure whether to be disappointed or relieved.

“Absolutely not,” Kara lies.

“That’s good. She’d be too much to handle, Kara,” James warns. “Even for you.”

“That advice is a little hard to take from my ex-boyfriend, James,” Kara teases. “You just sound jealous.”

“I’m not.” They share a chuckle and a knowing smile. 

Kara and James had only dated for a couple months, right at the end of their freshman year — and it fizzled out as quickly as it started. It turns out, the intimacy and understanding they felt between each other was called ‘friendship’, and it worked much better for them than a relationship ever did. There was love between them, but it wasn’t romantic in the slightest.

Besides, he and Lucy were an _infinitely_ better match (as they had discovered last summer).

“She is hot though, I’ll say that,” James sips his beer thoughtfully.

“Who?” Kara asks, hiding her mouth in her drink cup.

“Lena Luthor,” James nods.

“Eh, I guess so,” Kara fakes thoughtful contemplation. “She’s not really my type though.”

That’s the biggest fucking lie she’s ever told in her life, oh my god.

“Smart, pretty, and haunted,” James recounts. “She kind of is. Plus, I heard you two don’t hate each other anymore. You wouldn’t want to …?”

“We set aside our differences,” Kara waves him off, draining her drink. “But that was months ago. I’ve barely talked to her since.”

“And here Lucy thought she was onto something,” James says. “She’s going to be heartbroken if I come back empty-handed.”

“Lucy will survive,” Kara states, a muscle twitching in her jaw. Why did everyone care so much? The constant interrogations and sly looks were starting to grate her nerves. “Why the fascination with my love life?”

“It’s your first friends-with-benefits since Siobhan,” James says. “You’ve only had one-night-stands since. Everyone’s a bit curious.”

“Well curiosity killed the cat,” Kara says sharply. “And you all can fuck off.”

“Are you whipped?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Oh, you _are_ ,” James jeers. “Kara Danvers is whipped!” He sways over the bar a little, and Kara realizes he’s too drunk to realize she’s not playing along anymore.

She’s not fucking whipped. She’s just being respectful.

“I’m gonna go get some air,” Kara says, slamming her empty cup on the bar with a ‘thud’ as she makes an abrupt exit.

The cold air feels good on her angry skin. There’s the tell-tale creaking of the door behind her as someone else exits the bar. Kara prays it’s not anyone she knows, except maybe—

“Everything okay?” The voice is smooth as a pen gliding across paper. 

_Lena._

Relief washes away the tension in Kara’s shoulders.

“Yeah,” Kara sighs, resting her hands on her hips as she turns around to face the woman. “My friends are all annoying.”

“I’m well-aware of that fact.” Lena quirks an eyebrow when Kara doesn’t defend them like usual, but she doesn’t push further. “Do you want to get out of here?”

“Yes,” Kara exhales.

“Good,” Lena steps closer, every click of her heels against the sidewalk driving Kara’s anticipation higher and higher. “Because I have something I need your help with.”

“What’s that?” Kara gulps. Lena’s practically standing right on top of her now. 

Kara can feel the warmth of Lena’s breath against her face. Her heels are taller than usual, so her perfect red lips come right up to Kara’s ear.

In a voice that sends chills down her spine, Lena whispers, “Come with me and find out.”

Kara feels a bit like she’s dancing on the edge of something dangerous.

But she doesn’t care.

* * *

Kara’s friends don’t get any less annoying, and she decides it’s time to play with fire.

_hey luthor. what are you up to?_

**_hot girl bummer:_ ** _Homework. why?_

_want to piss my friends off?_

**_hot girl bummer:_ ** _Happily. What do you need me to do?_

_come pick me up from practice tomorrow? ends at 7:30am_

**_hot girl bummer:_ ** _That’s awful early, Danvers, you’d have to make it up to me. Also, won’t that attract a lot of attention?_

_that’s kinda the point … my friends don’t know who you are and they’re being terrors about it. i wanna rub it in their nosy faces_

_so what do you say?_

Kara’s phone doesn’t buzz again for several minutes, and she worries that she’s crossed a line. Right as she goes to text Lena and tell her to forget the whole thing, a message comes in:

 **_hot girl bummer:_ ** _I’m in. What are friends for, after all?_

_see you then ;)_

It goes exactly how Kara hopes.

Lena’s sleek silver car is waiting for her outside the gym, pulled right up to the curb like last time.

Kara makes sure to leave the building along with her friends, like usual, but when they part right to head for the parking lot, Kara stays straight.

“Little Danvers, where are you going?” Maggie calls back. M’gann and Alex turn fully around too — a look of deep confusion across her sister’s face — and Lucy and Nia look up from their phones. Kara can practically hear Lucy’s brain jumpstart as she recognizes the car that Kara’s headed right for.

“Don’t wait up!” Kara yells. “I’m catching a ride with a _friend_.”

With her Luthor-perfect timing, the door to Lena’s car swings upwards, and Kara slides in with one final glimpse of her friends’ confused, shocked faces.

“Your timing was perfect,” Kara informs Lena. She’s all dressed-up and ready for the day, looking stunning as always. “You look very nice.”

“Thank you,” Lena says as the door falls back down in place. “Where to?”

“Breakfast?” Kara requests. “Noonan’s, on me.”

“Deal,” Lena agrees, her car tearing off with an expert flair of the tail. Kara can imagine Alex practically having a heart attack after that.

Since the athletics’ complex is right on the edge of campus, they quickly find themselves back in the streets of National City, headed in the direction of Kara’s apartment. Meanwhile, Kara’s phone is lighting up and vibrating like it’s about to explode.

“I think we were successful,” Lena references the phone.

“Fifteen messages in the group chat and counting,” Kara informs her. “And two missed calls from Alex.”

“You know our stunt likely made things worse for you, right?” Lena asks.

“Eh,” Kara shrugs. “They’ll throw a tantrum and then get over it. I needed to push back a little.”

“Fair point.”

“So … can I drive your car sometime?” Kara asks, feeling rather bold off their successful ploy.

“No,” Lena states, gripping the wheel firmly. “I don’t let anyone drive my car.”

“Why not?” Kara pouts. “I’m a great driver! Never been in an accident — technically.”

 _“Technically_ _?”_ Lena snorts. “Regardless, the answer is still no. I spent hundreds of hours training with professional drivers before handling a car like this.”

“I wasn’t driving; not my fault! And like never _eve_ _r?”_ Kara double checks.

“Never,” Lena asserts. “I’d sooner fall in love with you then let you sit behind this wheel.”

Kara’s stomach flips over, and it’s not from the right turn Lena just made.

She’d dwell on why exactly that is, but a sharp ringing noise reverberates throughout the vehicle, a phone icon popping up on the dashboard tablet display. The contact reads ‘Jess’.

“Fuck, I have to take this,” Lena glances at the screen, her jaw set. She turns to glance at Kara with a warning look on her face. “Sit there quietly.”

Kara nods and Lena hits the answer button.

“Good morning, Miss Luthor,” a voice rings out through the car speakers.

 _'Miss Luthor?'_ Kara mouths. There’s a quizzical, amused look on her face.

' _Shut up_ ,' Lena mouths back. “Good morning, Jess.”

“I’m just calling to remind you that you have a dentist appointment this Thursday, at three-o-clock,” Jess says. “I’ve also scheduled the dry cleaning delivery for tomorrow.” 

“Thank you,” Lena says. “Anything else?”

“The housekeeping service accidentally double-booked, so they’re sending someone Wednesday,” Jess continues. “Is that acceptable or shall I insist they send someone tomorrow?”

“Wednesday is perfectly fine,” Lena nods effortlessly, even though Jess can’t see it. Kara can, though, and it’s a refreshing reminder that while Lena might be rich, she’s not the demanding, entitled type.

“The last item is about your mother,” Jess says. Kara can see as Lena deflates before her very eyes. “At her request, I’ve added her to your schedule for lunch Sunday.”

“That’s fine,” Lena says absentmindedly. She’s got a far-away look in her eye.

“That’s all then, Miss Luthor,” Jess finishes. “Have an excellent week.”

“Thank you, Jess, you too.”

The call ends and the car is silent again.

Kara waits a respectful moment before asking, “Who’s Jess?”

Lena lets out a deep sigh. “For lack of a better term, Jess is my … handler. Lillian employs her to deal with the tedious every-day tasks; scheduling, appointments, the like. She’s also supposed to handle anything I might do to embarrass or disgrace the family name. Lex had one too in college, Otis — not that it made much of a difference.”

“Is that …” Kara trails off, frowning. “Normal? For rich families.”

“Not particularly,” Lena says. “Lillian prefers to keep her hands clean of the mundane responsibilities of motherhood. Hiring handlers for her children allows her that freedom.”

“Oh,” Kara says. "Your mother sounds …" She stops, frowning deeper, unable to think of a word that’ll fit what she actually feels and not be rude.

“There’s not many words you can call her that haven’t already been said,” Lena informs her.

“I’m sorry,” Kara murmurs. 

From the limited information she knows about Lena’s mother, Kara imagines Lena’s had a very dispassionate, cold childhood. It makes sense; it explains the effortlessness of her ice queen demeanor. 

Maybe it’s just the light of the new sun, but Kara feels like she sees a bit more of Lena Luthor now.

“It’s quite alright,” Lena tilts her chin upwards. “I lead a very privileged life and I do not presume to pity myself for it.”

“So, should I call you Miss Luthor now?” Kara teases, trying to lighten the mood.

“Not if you _ever_ want to have sex with me again.” It’s a genuine threat.

“Got it,” Kara chuckles.

* * *

Kara’s never been one to run from danger. 

In fact, as a little girl, she’d often seek it out — earning her the moniker ‘danger girl’ from her father. It’s that instinct, that thirst to stand on the edge and stare downwards at fate, that often gets her into troublesome situations.

This time is no different.

Lena’s not at Al’s this Saturday, so naturally, Kara has to find out where she is instead. It doesn’t hurt that all her friends are minutes away from brawling over the rules of an awry drinking game, and she’s fed up with them.

_not coming out tonight?_

**_hot girl bummer:_ ** _Not tonight, I’m afraid. As far as your interests are concerned, I’m out of commission._

_what does that mean? are you hurt??_

**_hot girl bummer:_ ** _No, Kara, I’m on my period._

Oh.

Oh…

Well, that’s a slight change of plans, but Lucy and Maggie are now full-volume yelling at each other _and_ Mike simultaneously, and Kara would easily take a bitchy, moody Lena Luthor over her current environment any day. (It’s honestly a bit of a scheduling miracle that this is even the first time they’ve encountered this problem, not that it’s really much of a problem anyways.)

_will you be up for awhile?_

**_hot girl bummer:_ ** _Yes. I just cracked open a bottle of wine that’s way too expensive to let go unfinished._

_i can come help you with it?_

**_hot girl bummer:_ ** _That’s your own ill-advised decision to make. It’s in dangerous territory._

_i like danger :)_

By the end of the hour, Kara’s in the gilded elevator of Lena’s swanky apartment complex, her hands full of donuts from the late-night bakery across the street from Al’s. (One donut was lost to Henry, the doorman, but it was a worthwhile sacrifice.)

 **_hot girl bummer:_ ** _Actually, stay out with your friends. Upon a secondary evaluation, you’re liable to lose your head if you come here._

_too bad, i’m already here. it’s not like i use my head for anything important anyways_

_just open the door, please?_

A moment later, the door slowly cracks open, a grumpy Lena Luthor blocking the entry. She’s dressed for comfort in sweatpants Kara didn’t even know she owned, and Kara’s sky blue Comets t-shirt. 

(Kara keeps forgetting to take her clothes back, oops. It has nothing to do with the tingle in her stomach whenever she sees Lena wearing them.)

“Danvers,” she greets in the most unimpressed tone.

“Hi to you too, Lena,” Kara says, intentionally sounding as chipper as possible. “I heard there was a wine emergency?”

“I’m not in the mood anymore, Danvers,” Lena growls. “I have a less-than-fun day planned for me tomorrow.”

“Well, how about some fried, sugary goodness to cheer you up?” Kara asks, holding up the paper bag full of donuts. She didn’t know what kind Lena would like, so she got several.

“Are you bribing me?” Lena raises an eyebrow.

“With donuts?” Kara asks. “Yes. You’re like the only person in National City who’s not getting on my nerves right now.”

“The night is still young,” Lena says ruefully. “I’m really not in the best mood, Kara, so you should go.”

The door starts to close with a slightly-apologetic smile, and Kara pulls out the last card in her deck.

“There’s a chocolate one.”

The door widens shamelessly.

“I will be on my best behavior,” Kara promises, kicking off her shoes to their usual spot.

“You had better,” Lena warns, snatching the bag of donuts out of Kara’s hands. “I’m not in a mood to be trifled with.”

“Yeah, I got that vibe,” Kara whispers under her breath, watching Lena take the donuts into the kitchen and plate them.

“Which one do you want?” Lena demands. In a smaller voice, she then asks, “Can I have the chocolate one?”

“Of course,” Kara chuckles, coming to grab a glass of water. It’s funny, it should concern her how the act is practically muscle memory at this point, but it’s so natural she doesn’t even notice. “And I’ll take the pink icing one. Water?”

“I have my wine, but thank you,” Lena declines. “Feel free to grab another wine glass and join me.”

They end up eating in the living room. Lena sits on the couch while Kara spreads out on the floor rug, so their plates occupy opposite sides of the coffee table. Lena’s about halfway through the bottle of wine that rests in the center.

“Mhph,” Lena moans, having just taken her first bite of the frosted chocolate-cake donut.

“Good right?” Kara grins, then takes a bite of her own. She then pours herself a little wine — she’s still a beer and liquor girl, but it’s growing on her.

“Delicious,” Lena agrees, wiping a piece of icing from the corner of her mouth. Kara would’ve sooner licked it off, but whatever works.

“What did your friends do to earn your ire?” Lena asks. “Other than be themselves, of course.”

“Hey, my friends are great,” Kara defends softly. “Even if they get a bit loud sometimes.”

“Are they still interrogating you over my identity?” Lena guesses.

“No, thankfully,” Kara exhales. “It’s basketball this time. This time of year always gets intense because everyone’s sore and tired and stressed with having school again. It’s not January if we’re not all at each other's' throats.”

Lena takes another bite of donut, and Kara watches with pride as joy spreads across her face.

“Anyways, we were at Al’s like usual, and Mike suggested a new drinking game,” Kara continues. “But the rules were complicated and everyone just started getting super competitive and yelling at each other.”

“Ah,” Lena bemoans. “ _Athletes_.”

“Hey, we’re not that bad!” Kara quickly defends, mouth full of donut.

“No, I suppose some of you have a certain appeal,” Lena’s eyes flicker softly over her face. Kara swallows her last bite roughly, coughing a bit.

“Want another donut?” Kara asks, getting to her feet for seconds.

“I’m alright, but thank you, Kara,” Lena says, her voice getting a bit quieter as Kara walks into the kitchen. “I’ll admit, I’m at a bit of a loss to keep you entertained without my usual means.”

Kara rustles around in the donut bag. “You don’t have to keep me entertained, Lena. I can do that on my own.”

“Oh, can you now?” Even though Lena is a room over, Kara can easily hear the insinuation in her voice.

“Oh, not like that!” Kara flushes, returning to the living room with plate in hand. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that, I mean I masterba—”

She stops short at the sight of Lena’s silent giggling. Her dimples look absolutely precious under the gentle lights.

“Oh,” Kara realizes. “You’re just tormenting me.”

“It runs in the family, sorry,” Lena says. “We still have a dilemma on our hands …”

Kara hums thoughtfully, raking over her mental list of Lena’s hobbies.

“What about chess?” Kara asks. “Do you have a chess set? You could teach me how to play.”

“That I can do,” Lena smiles. “I’ll be right back.”

Kara polishes off her second donut and considers grabbing a third, but Lena returns before she can decide. The raven-haired woman is holding a short, square box between her hands. Kara shifts up to sit cross-legged on the opposite side of the coffee table from Lena.

“Here we are,” she says, setting it down on the table. The box is made of an old, dark redwood, and there’s black and white marble inlaid into the top. It’s in immaculate condition, but Kara can tell just from looking at it that it’s an old and beloved relic.

“That’s a nice board,” Kara admires.

“Thank you. It was my father’s,” Lena says softly, perching on the edge of the couch. “So — what do you know about chess?”

Kara gives a thoughtful pout as she looks out over the chessboard. “I know it’s a mental game, and there’s a bunch of little horse pieces that get lined up on the board.”

“That’s … technically accurate, if not a bit elementary,” Lena concedes. “Let’s start with the board; it should be oriented so the dark-color square is in the bottom left hand corner.”

Kara rotates the board ninety degrees to match Lena’s advice.

“Each row on the board is referred to as a rank,” Lena explains, pulling pieces out of a drawer built into the frame of the box. “Dark or light?”

“Light,” Kara answers, carefully plucking the white stone pieces out of their felt-lined compartments. The marble feels cool against her palm.

“Good choice,” Lena nods, pulling out her respective pieces and placing them directly on the board.

“Which pieces go where?” Kara asks.

“These are the pawns,” Lena holds up a small, dark piece of her own to demonstrate. “They line the entire second-to-last rank. For your last rank, do the mirror image of what I do: rook, knight, bishop, queen on her matching-color square, then the king.”

Kara begins to position the pieces accordingly, shooting a questioning glance at Lena — she nods — to ensure the pieces end up in the right places. Lena explains the different pieces and how they can move next, and Kara does her best to try and keep up. She’s got a hot girl to impress, after all.

“So how do I win?” Kara cuts to the chase.

Lena chuckles. “You win by capturing my king. Once you have a piece in place that can capture my king — which is called being in ‘check’ — you call ‘checkmate’.”

“With any piece, or does it have to be my king too?” Kara frowns down at the board, trying to picture the scenario.

“Any piece,” Lena replies. “The queen is the strongest, but each piece is valuable in it’s own way.”

“Okay, I think I got it,” Kara looks up at her, determination across her face. “Let’s do it.”

“Light-player goes first, and they always have a slight advantage because of that,” Lena smiles savagely, and Kara feels a little bit like a sheep before a wolf.

Lena’s voice drops down an octave. “And _darling_ _?_ You’ll need every advantage you can get.”

She’s not joking.

The first game goes slowly, and Lena is patient with Kara as she learns, offering helpful strategies and reminders as they go — it’s the bishops that move diagonally, not the rooks — but eventually that game ends in Lena’s victory.

“Next time, try to control the center of the board,” Lena advises. “Don’t sacrifice pieces without purpose, and don’t forget to use all of them.”

“Okay,” Kara frowns in thought. That’s so many pieces to consider. Who knew chess was so hard? She would take a sport, _any sport_ , over this any day. At least she’d stand a chance then.

“Think you can handle another round?” Lena asks.

“Bring it on,” Kara welcomes her own demise.

The second game is not slow nor patient. Lena allows Kara to move the pieces with no guidance or advice whatsoever, and she checks Kara’s king within minutes.

“I can do better,” Kara frowns, pouring herself more wine. She needs it, with this beating. “Let me try again.”

She does not do better in the third round. Or the fourth.

“Lena, this is just painful,” Kara whines. “Haven’t you ever heard of mercy?”

“I warned you, Danvers, I’m ruthless,” Lena smirks. “I don’t do anything as sentimental as mercy.”

“Clearly,” Kara’s eyes bug out as she gestures to the board, where Lena has her king in checkmate — no, check? — for the fourth time.

“Go ahead and say it,” Lena goads, leaning back into the couch.

“Say what?” Kara’s eyes narrow.

“Tell me how good I am at chess,” Lena taunts. “I think I’ve sufficiently earned the right, considering I’ve beaten you four times whilst drunk off an entire bottle of wine.”

“Oh, no,” Kara shakes her head. “The _last_ thing I am doing is inflating your ego further. And you’ve only had like three-quarters.”

“Why not?” Lena fakes a pout. “It will still pale in comparison to yours.”

“Hey!” Kara protests. “My ego isn’t that big.”

“That’s not what you asserted the first night we slept together,” Lena smirks.

“I didn’t call my ego big,” Kara mumbles. “I called my …”

“Oh, I’m well aware of what you called big,” Lena winks and there’s a new throbbing between Kara’s legs. “I do believe we’ve since explored that … avenue.”

The Luthor grabs a hold of the almost-empty wine bottle with a grin and chugs the rest from the neck.

When the wine bottle comes back down to the table, the smile has fallen from Lena’s lips, the celebration of her victories abruptly halted.

“What’s wrong?” Kara asks. Lena’s got a very pensive look on her face, waving around the empty bottle of wine like an idle wand.

“I feel like I’m forgetting something,” she muses, zoning out, staring down at the chessboard. “But I can’t remember what it is?”

“It certainly wasn’t how to be a good sport,” Kara mumbles.

“What was that, Danvers?” Lena calls her out.

“Nothing,” Kara rolls her eyes, then softens it with a smile. “You’ve finished your wine, though, so it’s probably time for bed.”

“I suppose so,” Lena speaks slowly. “Thank you for the company tonight. It was … pleasant.”

Kara nods happily. “It was nice.”

Lena bites her lower lip, eyes riveted on Kara. “I’m drunk and emotionally-compromised right now — and that will be my excuse to the grave — so, will you stay tonight?”

Kara’s heart catches against her ribcage. “Sure, yeah, if you want me to.” Kara starts to clean up their mess in a hurry, only for Lena to grab her hand and pull her away.

“Leave it,” she says. “There’s always tomorrow.”

* * *

Kara wakes up to the sound of Lena’s apartment door opening.

That can’t be right. She’s holding Lena — shit, she’s holding Lena!

Kara jumps away from her dangerous position, retracting her arm. The immediate lack of warmth makes her long for Lena’s body against hers again. They really do fit well together.

She then shakes Lena’s shoulder, who’s still in a bit of a sleepy haze, and asks, “Who’s that?”

“Who’s who?” Lena mumbles, stretching into the morning sunlight.

“Someone just came in,” Kara says. “Were you expecting someone?”

Lena bolts upright. “Oh, fuck!”

“Lena, dear?” a voice calls. It’s female and decidedly aristocratic.

Lena turns to Kara with genuine panic in her eyes. “Hide. Now!”

“What?!” Kara whispers, very confused and shocked.

“You need to hide,” Lena pushes at her shoulders frantically, Kara awkwardly scooting out of bed along with the motion.

“What? Where?”

Lena freezes for a millisecond. “Under the bed. Grab your clothes. Do _not_ make a single sound.”

Under the bed? That’s not — that’s not gonna work.

Kara really, really, _really_ doesn’t like small spaces.

“Lena, I, I don’t … small spaces are—”

“— _Please_ , Kara,” Lena begs, and the absolute desperation in her voice tips the scales in her favor.

And that’s how Kara finds herself shoved under Lena Luthor’s bed, lying on her stomach, half-naked and clutching the rest of her clothes. She lays perfectly still, taking shallow breaths, trapped between the low metal frame and the rug over the hard floor.

She can practically feel her skin crawling away from her as the fear sets in.

But Lena needs her to endure, and she will. She’s made of steel.

Kara keeps her breathing level with slow, deep inhalations, and even slower exhalations. She’s okay, she’s not trapped or stuck, it’s not dangerous — she can get out whenever she wants to. She just doesn’t want to, right, because Lena needs her not to.

Besides, she still has some space to wiggle around. That helps too.

From her vantage point, she can see the bottom of the door out of Lena’s bedroom, a small amount of sunlight filtering in underneath. It’s a reminder of her way out, but also a window into what’s happening.

“One moment!” Lena shouts back.

Lena’s feet dart frantically across her bedroom, to the bathroom, then to the closet, then back. The bedroom door opens with a flood of light.

A pair of steep black leather heels appears in the living room, framed by the bedroom doorway.

“Mother!” Lena’s voice exclaims in surprise, walking into the doorframe, blocking it with her body. Kara can see the hem of a thick robe fall around her calves (oh, so she does actually own a long one). 

_Wait, Mother?!_

Oh, fuck.

Kara doesn’t dare move a muscle. She would rather die than make a sound right now. Even if she did, she imagines Lena would give her a swift death.

“What are you doing here?” Lena asks. It’s overly polite, and it betrays her true thoughts to Kara.

“Well, I still had the spare key from the signing, so I figured I would swing by,” Lillian explains, her heels clicking against the floors. “This lunch meeting is a huge opportunity for Luthor Corp and everything needs to be flawless.”

“Right, Rose Cosmetics,” Lena says. Kara can just picture her rubbing at her brow like she does when she’s annoyed or stressed. “Why do you want to acquire a cosmetics company again? Since when do you care about selling such ‘simple consumer products’?”

“I don’t, but it’s a promising avenue for some of our newest pharmaceutical developments,” Lillian answers. “Though given our polling numbers, we need a company with a more … favorable public image to launch the products.”

“Oh, because customers don’t want to buy lipstick from the same company that sells insulin at such a high markup that patients starve to pay for it?” Lena snaps.

“Enough,” Lillian seethes. _"Th_ _is_ is why I came here, so you can get all of this childish drivel out of your system now.”

“Don’t worry, Mother, I’ll be the image of daughterly obedience during the meeting,” Lena says coolly. “I wouldn’t want to give you any more grey hairs before you can get them touched up.”

“See that you are,” Lillian warns.

Kara fidgets under the bed as she hears Lillian’s footsteps again. _Don’t come closer, don’t come closer, don’t—_

“Did you have company last night?” Lillian’s voice cuts right through Kara’s thoughts. “Your living room is a _mess_.”

The wave of judgment is so strong, Kara is surprised that Lena’s left standing. 

“Jack was over last night,” Lena lies and Kara wrinkles her nose up at it. “We played chess and split a sauvignon blanc.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re not spending your weekends frequenting disgraceful bars like your brother,” Lillian muses. 

_Oh, if only she knew_ , Kara smiles smugly to herself. A particular bar in Metropolis comes to mind — specifically the bathroom. 

“I always liked Jack,” Lillian continues. “Smart, handsome, good family. Are you two together again?”

“Jack and I aren’t dating, Mother,” Lena spits, “And I am still very much into women, despite your best passive-aggressive attempts to alter that fact.”

Lillian lets out a lofty sigh. “Yes, you take every opportunity to remind me of that _calamity_.”

In the solitude of the bedroom, Kara feels her heart shatter for Lena; the pressure of the bedframe on her ribcage is the only thing holding together the fragments.

“I’ll see you at lunch, Mother,” Lena dismisses. “I need to get ready.”

“Very well,” Lillian says. “Remember, the company is run by a mother-daughter team and we need to present a united front to get them on board.”

“Yes, Mother,” Lena bites. “I’m happy to help _Luthor Corp_ , as always.”

Instead of hearing fading, distant footsteps and the thud of the door closing like Kara expects, the clicking of Lillian’s heels halts abruptly, and Kara’s heartbeat stops with them.

“Lena … are these _your_ shoes?” Lillian asks. There’s a noticeable sting of repulsion in her voice. “It’s not like you to wear … _canvas_.”

Kara’s eyes blow wide at the epiphany her slip-ons are still by Lena’s front door, discarded in a hurry during last night.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Oh,” Lena exhales deeply, buying herself time to think of a suitable answer. “I use them when I walk to the gym.”

There’s a moment of judgmental silence.

“They’re quick to slip on and off, Mother,” Lena elaborates, a bit of exasperation in her voice.

“Hmph, at least you’re trying to lose those extra pounds,” Lillian snorts an acceptance. “I’ll see you at lunch, twelve sharp. And make sure to look _presentable_ , Lena, I expect better.”

And with that, Lillian is gone, but her darkness still hangs in the air.

Kara should probably give Lena a minute to decompress from that horror show, but it’s so cramped and tight under the bed, there’s hardly any air, and she’s just gotta escape.

Once she recollected herself, lungs full of air and freedom once more, Kara walks out into the living room to see Lena standing — still as a statue — over their mess from last night.

“Lena …” Kara says. She doesn’t even know what to say. Not after bearing witness to _that_.

Lena silences her with a harsh look, jaw firm. Her eyes are wet and it only serves to magnify the intensity of her glare. 

“Do not even start that sentence, Kara Danvers,” Lena warns. “Leave, please.” Her lips tremble the smallest amount.

“But Lena—”

“Ou-t!” she says, her voice cracking. It sounds so pained and raw, and it takes every ounce of Kara’s strength to not bound right over and take Lena into her arms. But she can tell that would do little to help the woman right now.

So Kara leaves and pretends like she doesn’t hear the shatter of glass and the broken “fuck!” that echoes down the hallway after her.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes … next update will be one of my favorite chapters that I got to write, stay tuned.
> 
> Also, please forgive any formatting errors. The italics always messes with the spacing when I import the text; I try my best to fix it but I always seem to miss a few. If anyone has an easy work-around, hmu.


	11. of a new star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steel is tempered in the heat of a new star as someone makes an astronomical realization.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The feedback on this has me humbled and speechless as always; thank you all so much.
> 
> In this AU, college basketball is set up more like the NBA (i.e quarters). Alright, let's get to it …

* * *

Lena hasn’t spoken to Kara in over a week.

Despite Kara’s best efforts — five text messages, each one more subdued then the last — they haven’t talked at all.

And Lena would keep it that way, were it not for the awful twisting in her gut.

It’s been keeping her up at night, frankly, and the bags under her eyes are harsh enough that she’s finally had enough. She needs to confess.

Jack, whose spare key was reinstated in the name of emotional support, is leaning across the kitchen island from Lena.

“So you haven’t talked to Kara?” he repeats. “At all?”

“No,” Lena bemoans. “How could I? Jack, the last time I saw her, my mother insulted me repeatedly, covering a rather _wide_ variety of equally-mortifying topics. I can’t believe I _forgot_ she was visiting; I should’ve known she would come to my place first.”

“Lena, it’s not exactly news that your mother is a raging bitch,” Jack says flatly.

“But to Kara it is,” Lena says.

Sure, Kara might’ve had a suspicion after Lena’s brief mentions of Lillian, especially after Lena kicked her out one night and had to apologize the next morning. But to have Kara experience it in person, both of them completely unprepared … that was a whole different beast. 

“Besides, Kara’s mother is nothing less than fully accepting,” Lena continues. “Kara Danvers’ life has been full of nothing but sunshine and rainbows and love.”

She’s told herself that lie many times in the past several days.

“Did Kara tell you that?” Jack raises his brows.

“… in a manner of speaking,” Lena lies. 

It’s a believable lie on the surface; Kara has a healthy relationship with her sister, a loving and accepting mother, endless basketball accolades, a flawless smile, and a bright and exciting future. But deep down -- currently shoved _so deep down_ Lena can barely hear it -- her gut is reminding her she knows that’s not true. Kara’s happiness is a mask for something, she has an ‘anniversary’ that haunts her, and she’s lost her parents. But that provides evidence contrary to what Lena needs to hear to keep living like this, so she ignores that little inner voice. 

“So what’s the worst thing that will happen if you talk to her?” Jack asks.

Lena scoffs. “My wicked witch of a mother scares her off and she says she wants nothing to do with me. And I lose out on the best sex of my life.”

“You think she’s going to end things, don’t you?” Jack asks, smirking like he knows something.

Lena’s silence answers for her.

“Lena,” Jack says slowly. “I’m going to ask you a question and I want you to think before you answer.”

Lena’s heart skips a beat. “What?”

“Do you trust Kara?” Jack’s glass clinks down on the counter.

“I—“

“—Nope!” Jack cuts her off. “Think first.”

Lena goes silent and takes his request to heart. Truthfully, she _does_ trust Kara. She doesn’t know how or when it happened — the night after Lex’s party, or when Kara first told her she was a good person regardless of her surname, or even on the plane leaving Metropolis where she might’ve accidentally echoed this exact sentiment — but she can’t deny that it exists anymore.

For the first time in a very long time, Lena trusts someone new.

“Yes,” Lena says, surprising herself with how easily the word comes out. “I do trust her.”

“Then act like it,” Jack says. “You clearly treat each other with respect, for this arrangement to have even made it this far. Trust that her bearing witness to Lillian’s awfulness won’t change things between you two.”

“… I’ll consider it,” Lena sighs. “But I still need some time to … decompress from that whole ordeal.” 

She’s in no rush to confront Kara, putting the odds around 50/50 that the blonde ends things right then and there — not wanting to have anything to do with Lena’s horrible family. Despite whatever Jack may think he knows, that’s the likeliest end result here.

Jack’s eyes narrow. “You’re procrastinating.”

“I will speak to her again when I’m ready,” Lena insists.

“No,” Jack hums. “No, you won’t.”

But then he leaves it alone.

A few nights later, Lena’s relieved to have a distraction when Jack takes her out for a nice steak dinner downtown.

She’s a bit caught off guard when he offers to drive, and pay, but she lets it happen.

Then she gets a bit wary when he says they need to swing by campus.

And the suspicion sets in full-force when Jack makes that distinct right-turn into the athletics sub-campus. The parking lot is packed with cars, and the gym is aflame with bright lights and the roar of cheers.

“Oh, no,” Lena looks at Jack with terror across her face. “We are _not_ doing this.”

“We are!” Jack smiles, pulling into a priority parking space. He shifts into ‘park’ with a firm finality. “Deal with it.”

“ _Absolutely_ not.”

“Absolutely _yes_.”

Her fate is already sealed, and she knows it. Plus, Jack drove them here (which Lena quickly realizes was incredibly intentional), that bastard.

“Jack, I don’t _do_ bleachers,” Lena objects, as a last-ditch attempt to avoid her fate. Surely, Jack wouldn’t make her suffer in such a cruel way?

“I know,” Jack winks. “We have courtside tickets, courtesy of your brother.”

“What did you tell him?” Lena demands. She digs her nails into Jack’s forearm.

“Ow!” he yelps. “Nothing; just that I was upset you went to a basketball game with him and not me. He doesn’t know about … you know.”

“I could kill you,” Lena sighs.

“You could,” Jack nods thoughtfully. “But you won’t. Because deep down … you _want_ to go watch Kara play.”

“Shut. Up.” Lena grits her teeth.

Jack hops out of his range rover and bounces back on his heels, grinning into the car. “I’ll give you a minute to get over yourself, and then we’re going to go enjoy the game.”

It takes a minute for Lena to let all her steam out. She hates this with every fiber of her being; she hates the noise of the crowd, she hates the spectacle of it all, and she hates that he’s _right_. 

She _does_ want to watch. She wants Kara to see her watching. They still haven’t talked since Lena unceremoniously kicked Kara out after Lillian’s visit — and it’s eating Lena alive more than ever. She hasn’t slept well in days.

Against her better judgment, she wants to see Kara, talk to Kara, _feel_ Kara again. Desperately.

“You good?” Jack asks patiently, once she surfaces from the vehicle.

Lena sucks on her teeth as she rolls back her shoulders. “Yes.”

“Yay!” he says, skirting off in the direction of the basketball gym. “Now, come on, the first quarter is almost starting. You need to do your powerbitch walk.”

And that’s how Lena finds herself watching Kara play basketball, up close and personal.

Jack’s picked a good game to watch.

It doesn't start that way though. NCU takes a few minutes to find their momentum, and despite the fact Lena’s found Kara a hundred times over, she seems to have no idea Lena’s there.

In fact, it doesn’t get good until a very specific moment.

A certain blonde-haired basketball superstar is dribbling up the sideline, flanked by two opposing players. She’s so close that Lena can see the stitching of her compression leggings, the watch-tan on her forearm, and the sky blue mouthguard hidden under her lips. Kara stops her advance abruptly, pivots a leg backward, and turns her head to the crowd to conceal her eyes. Then? Steel blue meets frosty green.

The basketball practically falls from Kara’s hands.

* * *

Kara’s always locked in.

If there’s a basketball game that day, that’s the only thing she thinks of. She’s fully locked in.

She’s locked in early when she’s sitting in class, re-running plays in her mind instead of listening to Professor Lockwood drone on.

She’s locked in whilst lying on a training room table before the game, heating her sore, achy muscles, thinking of nothing but the battle about to erupt in an hour.

She’s locked in when she dresses in the locker room, donning her uniform. They’re home today, which means white kits. 

Dressing is a meditative process that only locks her in further. There’s layers to it: sports bra, mid-calf compression leggings that are reinforced in the knee, and a pair of fresh white socks. Then it’s the white sleeveless jersey with the sky blue ‘11’ ringed in black, the hem of which gets shoved into the elastic waistband of her shorts, loose and falling above her knees. Then it’s the hair, thrown up into a tight ponytail with a white headband to keep any annoying baby-hairs out of the way. Last are the shoes; almost ethereal white.

She’s locked in more than ever.

Then she throws away the lock’s key — her final, essential pregame ritual. 

It’s a sacred moment of preparation. Kara unhooks the gold necklace from around her neck, twists the chain around the crest pendant, and presses the metal into the firm flesh of her inner left bicep. Alex comes over to wrap a strip of self-adhesive bandage over it, holding it snug in place. Then Kara rolls her sky-blue arm sleeve up over it, integrating it into her whole. 

(Despite the college athletics association’s rules, Kara will _never_ separate from her necklace.) It’s a part of her very being — to her, it’s what makes her Supergirl.

With it, she’s fully locked in.

She walks onto the court with the aire of a godling floating confidently over her world.

Kara’s _always_ locked in.

Until she sees a pair of green eyes along the sidelines, and her hands go numb and her pass falls completely short, right into the hands of the other team.

Fuck.

It’s a scramble to recover. Kara darts after her costly mistake, jumping up to slam the ball tight against the backboard, the layup blocked.

She’s locked back in now.

She has to be; she has an audience to impress now.

“Hey, good block,” Alex pants, slapping Kara on the back. “But maybe next time, make a smarter pass so we don’t have to hustle like that, yeah?”

“Yeah, sorry,” Kara nods in agreement, lungs empty. She sets her hands on her hips and gazes out over the sideline full of spectators. 

Blue eyes hit green again, and while Lena’s perfect red lips hold their frown, a small nod of acknowledgment is made.

That’s all Kara needs.

The shot clock resets; the firm, pebbled ball is under Kara’s palm again, and she’s got a singular goal.

_Win._

It’s Kara’s best game of the season so far. She completely shatters her career-best for points in a game, and it’s only the end of the third quarter.

They break before the beginning of the fourth, and the Comets’ huddle up around each other.

“Congrats, Kara!” Nia beams, handing her a full bottle of water. A few other teammates echo the sentiment, slapping her on the back. Alex looks the proudest of them all.

“Thanks,” Kara exhales, a proud smile on her face.

“Excellent work out there, ladies,” J’onn clenches his fist with a smile on his face, before rattling off how best to adjust their strategy to finish the game. Kara tries her best to listen, twisting her mouth-guard idly between her molars, ignoring the blurry silhouette of Lena over J’onn’s shoulder.

“Alright, let’s go get ‘em girls,” Alex holds out her hand for the team cheer. “3, 2, 1…”

The “Let’s go Comets!” that leaves Kara’s mouth is automatic. Mentally, she’s already out on the court, strolling over to the far sideline, capturing Lena’s eyes with her own, and giving her the most confident wink Kara has in her.

And that’s exactly what she does.

Kara’s never felt so electrified.

Lena’s _here —_ despite over a week of radio silence — and Kara has no idea what’ll happen after the game, but that doesn’t matter right now. What does matter is Lena’s _here_ in the flesh, only a few feet away from Kara, and she’s _watching_.

The same can’t be said for Kara.

On the next play, Kara’s got the ball, and she makes a drive up the sideline against the opposing team’s best attempts to stop her; suddenly, she hits something hard and she’s on her back against the cold wooden floor.

“Oof,” Kara exhales, a hand coming up to clutch her forehead. There’s another groan beside her.

“You good?” Kara asks, reaching her free hand out for the girl who collided with her.

“Not really,” the girl mumbles, clutching her head too. “Trainer …”

There’s something warm and wet rolling down Kara’s face as she sits up. “Trainer!” Kara yells, waving at the sidelines.

“Kara!” Alex is by her side instantly, hoisting her up to her feet then setting her hands over Kara’s.

“I’m okay,” Kara smiles, a bit disoriented — and fuck, her forehead is throbbing — but undeterred.

“Shit, you’re bleeding a lot,” Alex says, glancing down at one of her hands. It’s red.

Alex quickly steers Kara by the shoulders over to the Comets’ bench. One of their athletic trainers, Demos, meets them mid-way and flanks Kara’s other side as they sit her down off the court.

“Nia, in for Kara!” J’onn barks, wrinkles of concern across his forehead. “Alana for Alex!” 

The whistle rings out behind Kara as play resumes.

“Kara, let me see,” Demos says, as he pulls Kara’s hand away from her scalp.

Kara lets out a hiss at the pain that rushes in to fill the void left by the lack of pressure.

“It’s okay,” Alex soothes. “It’s okay, it’s not bad, it’s okay.”

“I’m fine,” Kara grunts. It’s really not _that_ painful. Her eyes are a little wet, but no true tears.

“That’s a nice laceration,” Demos mumbles to himself, poking through her hair.

“Do I need stitches?” Kara asks.

“Glue for sure,” Demos says, dabbing at the wound. “Too close to bone for stitches.”

“What a shame,” Kara deadpans.

“Not one for needles?” Demos asks.

Alex snorts beside her, wiping Kara’s blood off her hand with one of Demos’ wipes. “Hah. Kara’s a _huge_ baby about needles.”

“They’re not my favorite,” Kara admits.

“Alex!” J’onn calls. Despite the summons that Alex clearly desperately wants to follow, she doesn’t move — and she won’t, no matter what — until Kara tells her to.

“Go, I’m okay,” Kara assures.

Alex squeezes her bicep, nods once, and darts off to hop back into the game.

Kara hisses again as Demos starts to dig around in the open part of her wound.

“Sorry, “ Demos says, not relenting in the slightest. The pile of bloody wipes keeps growing.

“Will it scar?” Kara coughs, trying to distract herself from the searing sensation of the alcohol wipe. 

“Most likely,” Demos confirms, “Though it’ll be hidden in your hairline.”

“Oh,” Kara exhales. “That’s not bad.”

“You’ll live,” Demos smirks.

“Are you almost done?” Kara fidgets. “Can I go back in?”

“Sorry, Kara,” Demos shakes his head. “Not gonna happen.”

“Demos, I’m fine,” Kara whines.

“I haven’t even started gluing yet,” Demos argues, “And we have to run you through concussion protocol next.”

“I don’t have a concussion,” Kara objects. “I feel completely fine!”

“Have you seen how you look right now?”

“But …” Kara protests. She turns her head to skim the faces of the people sitting courtside; she almost makes it to where Lena’s sitting, only for Demos to grab her head and twist it back to face him.

“Nope,” Demos says. “Besides, your jersey is covered in blood; they won’t let you play in that biohazard.”

“There’s an extra in the Blood Bag—”

“No, Alex took it,” Demos says. Sure enough, her older sister is out on the court right now, wearing the number 55 instead of her usual 2, shooting a free-throw in the last of Kara’s hopes and dreams.

Kara lets out a deep sigh.

“Guess I’m not going back in then,” she mumbles.

“Now you’re getting it,” Demos agrees.

Well, that wasn’t exactly the plan.

* * *

The very first thing Kara does once she gets into the locker room is grab her phone.

She knew Jack was going to try and bring Lena to the game tonight, but after an hour of warm-ups and pregame fanfare, their two courtside seats remained empty, and so Kara pushed aside any idle thoughts of Lena Luthor to better focus on the one thing that would never change.

She didn’t expect Lena would actually be there.

But then she _was_ there. 

And — fuck, right! — hopefully still is.

**_Direct Message from spheerical:_ ** _FYI I drove Lena here, so she can’t exactly leave easily, but she’s not in a patient mood_

**_Direct Message from spheerical:_ ** _Sorry about your head Danvers, but any way you could hurry it up? Lena’s getting suspicious_

Shit.

_jack, are you guys still here?_

**_Direct Message from spheerical:_ ** _Yes, I’ve got her over by the trophies now_

_i’ll be there in ten_

It actually takes her about fifteen minutes, between getting into her clothes without getting blood on them, and then talking Alex into leaving without her — which turns into Kara practically begging Maggie to take her smothering, overprotective girlfriend home. Kara finally escapes, the keys to Alex’s car in her hand, and sneaks off towards the hallway where Jack’s laid the trap.

She doesn’t get there a moment too soon.

“Jack, can we please leave _now?_ _”_ Lena’s voice rings out. She sounds thoroughly exasperated. “I have no interest in who won the tennis championship fifty years ago. We already saw Kara’s trophy, that’s the only interesting item here.”

Kara breaks out into a grin, pulling against the medical adhesive on her forehead. Lena _saw_ their National Championship trophy. And it was _interesting_.

“Patience, Lena, darling,” Jack says.

Kara walks down the hall towards them as silently as possible, not wanting to spook Lena before she can use her puppy-eyed charm to buy her a few minutes to say what she needs to say. Thankfully, the hallway is dimmer than usual; half the lights are turned off to conserve power, since it’s now after-hours. The shadows keep Kara’s identity unknown as she gets closer.

“I have been patient with you this entire night,” Lena chides. “You have well and truly reached the end of my capacity.”

One of Kara’s shoes squeaks on the tile. Both silhouettes turn to face her.

“This is an ambush,” Lena realizes.

“Hi,” Kara exhales. She’s still tucked into the shadows, but it’s clear Lena’s figured out what’s happening by now. “Can we talk?”

Lena’s head slowly turns to face Jack for a moment, then back toward Kara. “It would seem we will regardless of my feelings on the matter.”

“I’m sorry,” Kara says, yanking nervously on the strap of the backpack thrown over her shoulder. She takes the few final steps into the light at the end of the hall. “Don’t be mad at Jack, I asked for his help. I didn’t know how else to—”

“—oh my god, Kara, your face!” A hand flies up to cover Lena’s mouth.

Her face?

Kara’s wound throbs in reminder.

Oh, right! That face.

“What?” Kara grins cockily, pointing at her forehead. “This little thing? It’s just a scratch.”

“That would be significantly easier to believe if I didn’t have eyeballs,” Lena quips, stepping closer. “Does it hurt?”

Kara clears her throat as Lena’s hand twitches outwards, as if to touch her. The hand is snatched right back.

“A little,” Kara admits. “But I’ve had worse.”

“Well, good,” Lena collects herself again, jutting out a proud jaw. “Because it won’t do you any favors. If I wanted to talk to you, Danvers, I would have.”

“Lena,” Kara flinches. “I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want to do, but I really do think we should talk. I know you and you wouldn’t still be here if a small part of you didn’t agree.”

“Fine,” Lena sighs. “Say what you so desperately need to say, Kara.”

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Jack bows out, and walks away. 

He doesn’t leave unscathed; a wicked glare from Lena follows him, and for a split second Kara is grateful to not be the one on the receiving end. It doesn’t last long.

“I … I just wanted to ask how you’re doing,” Kara says, taking a deep breath. “After Lillian’s visit, you stopped responding and I was worried!”

“How saintly,” Lena deadpans. “I’m fine, Kara. I hardly think it was worth the trouble of roping Jack into this treacherous gambit.”

“The game was Jack’s idea,” Kara mumbles. “I just wanted to _talk_.”

“And have you finished?” Lena snaps. “Talking?”

A frown sinks into Kara’s face. “No, what, w—why are you being so difficult about this?”

“Oh, I’m being difficult?” Lena’s eyebrows shoot upwards. “It was your undeterred insistence to join me Saturday night that we’re even having this conversation right now.”

“You asked me to stay!” Kara exclaims. “I didn’t know your mom would barge in!”

“Enough,” Lena sighs. “Say what you need to say so we can be finished.”

“Finished?” Kara flinches. “No, Lena, that’s not what this is! I just wanted to see if you were okay. I imagine everything with your mom was really hard on you, and the fact that I was there … I, I just wanted to apologize.”

Lena’s brow sinks. “You want to … apologize?”

“Yeah,” Kara nods. “I realize me being there probably made things a lot harder for you, and I’m sorry for compromising your privacy like that.”

“So … you don’t want this to be over?” Lena asks slowly.

“No,” Kara shakes her head vigorously. “No, not at all. Things are good between us.”

Lena doesn’t react at first.

A frown crosses Kara’s face. “Wait, do _you_ want this to be over?”

“No,” Lena exhales, lips quivering in her relief. “No, I … I’m having a lot of fun.”

“Oh, good,” Kara’s entire body relaxes. “Well … are we good then? Are you still mad?”

Lena doesn’t say anything for a moment.

“Lena?”

“I’m sorry, Kara, I wasn’t mad at you,” Lena says, stepping closer. “Lillian seems to — repeatedly — bring out the worst in me. Please, can you just forget everything that you heard?”

“Sure,” Kara says. “But for what it’s worth, _none_ of that stuff your mom said is true. You deserve to be treated better than she treats you.”

“I … I know,” Lena admits. “But my family, being who we are, it makes all of that a bit more complicated.”

“I’m sorry you have to deal with that,” Kara says genuinely. “You really are a good person, Lena. You deserve happiness and love.”

Lena lets out a rueful chuckle. “You know, you’ve always been good at saying that like you mean it.”

“Because I do.”

* * *

Much to Kara’s surprise (and delight), Lena elects to head back to the Danvers’ apartment, citing some responsibility to ‘ensure the person with the head wound gets home safely’. It makes her feel all warm inside. Kara drives the both of them back in Alex’s car, and by some luck, she snags a decent street parking spot. They then head upstairs, Lena constantly shooting careful quick appraisals of Kara’s head when she thinks the blonde can’t see.

“Alex is over at Maggie’s. Do you want to stay here tonight?” Kara asks, face-first in her fridge. She pulls out a big bag of leftover pizza with ‘Kara’ scribbled in marker all over it.

“If you don’t mind,” Lena tilts her head.

“Not at all,” Kara smiles. “Pizza?”

“I’m alright,” Lena declines. “Jack and I ate before the game.”

“Suit yourself,” Kara shrugs, plopping four massive slices onto a plate.

“Hungry?” Lena raises an eyebrow as the small mountain of bread is thrown into the microwave.

“You literally just watched me play an entire game of basketball,” Kara protests, faking indignance.

“Almost an entire game,” Lena corrects. “You lost several minutes after they had to fix your face.”

“Well aren’t you a stickler,” Kara grumbles, digging into her second dinner of the day. “They didn’t have to ‘ _fix’_ my face, that makes it sound like something’s wrong with it.”

Lena gives Kara an incredulous look. “Kara, do you have _any idea_ how much blood was dripping down your face?”

Kara shrugs. “Face wounds just bleed a lot,” she says, digging into another slice. “Phere jusph like phat.”

“I see your manners have gone out the window, in your state of hunger,” Lena arches an eyebrow. “Didn’t anyone tell you not to talk with your mouth full?”

Oh, more than Lena could imagine. Now, Kara would rattle off some examples, but that is a very long list of people, and she has more important things to do with her mouth. Mainly involving her pizza and Lena (in that order).

“So, so many times,” Kara says emphatically. “None of them have been successful.”

Lena lets out a dramatic sigh for Kara’s benefit. “And well, I think you would understand why I said ‘fix’ if you had seen your face,” Lena says, scrolling on her phone, clearly in search of something. “Ah — here.”

She holds up her phone for Kara to see. It’s a photo embedded in an NCU Sports article summarizing the night’s game; Kara remembers the moment vividly, but it’s odd to be on the other side of it, looking in at herself.

The photo is of her on the sidelines after the collision. Demos, and another athletic trainer Kara didn’t even realize was there too, are inspecting her scalp while Alex and Kara exchange words. (Alex had been telling her ‘it’s okay’ on repeat, though now looking at the concern captured on her older sister’s face, it was probably more for her own benefit then Kara’s.)

Kara’s bloody-white headband is pushed back over the apex of her head, and there’s a bloody half-handprint (Alex’s) on the shoulder of her jersey. Kara’s holding one hand up, inches away from her forehead to give the trainer a better look — bright red seeping from between her fingers. Her face looks the worst of it; in her attempt to apply some pressure to the wound, she had simply spread blood across the whole right half of her forehead and down her temple.

“Oh, so that’s why they used so many wipes,” Kara marvels. “And why there’s so much blood still in my hair.”

Lena’s eyes flicker up the right side of Kara’s scalp, and Kara’s heart rate goes too. 

“You don’t seem remotely fazed by _that_ ,” Lena notes.

“Nah,” Kara says, biting a chunk of pizza crust. “Should I?”

“You’re really made of steel, aren’t you, Danvers?” Lena’s eyes rake down her form, shining with admiration or lust, Kara’s not sure. Maybe both, hopefully.

“Practically bulletproof,” Kara smiles. “Plus, I always seem to heal fast.”

“Well, let’s not go testing that, Supergirl,” Lena says.

“Why, Luthor?” Kara teases. “Worried about me?”

“Perhaps,” Lena concedes, and it makes Kara’s heart leap forward. “I need you and those fingers in good, working order, after all.”

Kara’s smile falters a little. Her fingers, right.

“Was that also a gift from another disgruntled ex?” Lena asks. From the look in her eyes, she’s only half teasing.

“No,” Kara chuckles, “I didn’t know that girl. Just an unlucky hit; she got the worst of it.”

“Well I’m glad you only have one aggressive ex after you,” Lena muses, her eyes trailing the angry red edges of the wound.

“One or two,” Kara shrugs playfully. “Maybe three.”

“What do you do to piss them off so greatly?” Lena gives her an inquisitive look, as if she’s studying a puzzle that’s missing a piece.

“I don’t know,” Kara huffs, waving a slice of pizza around. “It just always blows up in my face, every time, except James.”

“You dated James Olsen?” Lena’s eyebrows shoot up.

“For like a month max, end of freshman year,” Kara quickly assures. “We did _not_ work, romantically. It was a very short-lived, safety-rebound situation.”

“Wow, I can’t even picture that,” Lena laughs.

“Yeah, it wasn’t a good look for us,” Kara agrees. “We’re much better off as friends.”

“I thought you said — from your experience — people can’t be friends with their exes?” Lena challenges. “When you improperly assumed Jack was my boyfriend.”

“Well, he _was_ once your boyfriend,” Kara mumbles in her defense. “And James is different. We were friends first.”

“Ah, a loophole.”

“Not really,” Kara shrugs. “Besides, James is the _only_ one that doesn’t seem to hate my guts now.”

“And you had the audacity to try and tell me you weren’t a fuckboy,” Lena says. “You’re so stereotypical it hurts.”

“Hey!” Kara protests. “It’s not my fault they always want more.”

“Want more?” Lena fake retches. “Could you have a bigger ego? Why don’t you just start bragging about how they can’t fit you in a Trojan?”

“No, no, not like that,” Kara quickly corrects. “I meant like _more_. I tried _more_ with Leslie and that blew up in my face. After that, and then James, I decided to just keep things simple. Relationships don’t work for me.”

Lena hums curtly. “They don’t seem to work out particularly well for me either.”

“That’s okay,” Kara says. “Friends-with-benefits with you _does_ work for me.”

“Me too,” Lena says softly. “I … I saw my ex back in Metropolis.”

Kara’s heart plummets past the mass of recently-consumed pizza in her stomach. “Oh. Who?”

“Her name is Sam Arias,” Lena explains. “We dated for about a year, but I knew her for two.”

“That’s a long time,” Kara marvels. Her shoulders sag a bit.

“It ended last spring,” Lena explains. “Sam was just here in National City to get her MBA. She moved back to Metropolis for work. Oh, and get this — Lex hired her to work for Luthor Corp a few months ago.”

“Did he tell you?” Kara asks, mouth slightly agape.

“No,” Lena shakes her head, sucking on her teeth. “And I barreled right into her office one night, expecting to find Lex.”

“Oh my god,” Kara stifles a laugh. “Oh no.”

“‘Oh no’ is right, Danvers,” Lena agrees. “It was mortifying.”

“Really?” Kara asks. “That bad?”

“Well, I suppose not,” Lena reconsiders. “It was nice to have my questions answered.”

“Questions?”

“Yes,” Lena says. “You ever have that one person you think back on and wonder about? If you were both just slightly different people, what would’ve been?”

“Not romantically, no. But I get wondering how life would be different, I _really_ do,” Kara says softly. Her heart gives a little pang of yearning, for more than one thing. “What happened with you two?”

“Sam was … very important to me,” Lena says slowly, pulling on her fingers. “She was every bit a positive influence where everyone else in my past wasn’t.”

“So then what went wrong?” Kara asks. “If you don’t mind talking about it …?”

“It’s fine,” Lena folds her arms over her chest and leans forward on them. “Sam’s a few years older and she has a daughter, Ruby. She has a whole different set of responsibilities than me. There wasn’t enough room for me in her life, and she left.”

“I’m sorry, Lena,” Kara says. “You deserve someone who will make room for you.”

“Thank you, Kara,” Lena takes a deep breath. “Sam didn’t tell me that she was moving back to Metropolis; I figured it out myself first. I was … very hurt that she didn’t tell me. She betrayed my trust. Though, I come from a family of tricksters and liars, so I should be used to it by now.”

“Well, hey, you don’t have to worry about that with me,” Kara makes a promise she shouldn’t. “Lucy says I’m a terrible liar.”

“I believe it,” Lena says. “You’re too genuine for that. And for what it’s worth, nothing happened with Sam, other than closure.”

The vice is lifted from Kara’s heart.

“I’m glad,” Kara says, then quickly realizes how it sounds. “That you got closure!”

A moment of silence passes.

“I probably shouldn’t have told you all of that,” Lena smiles ruefully. “Fuck buddies don’t do the exes-talk.”

“I don’t mind,” Kara assures. “Besides, we’re _friends_ -with-benefits. And friends are there for each other.”

She means those words 100%, yet they still leave a funny taste in her mouth.

“I suppose so,” Lena stands.

“Hey, did Andrea ever mention that night in Metropolis with Sara?” Kara asks.

“No,” Lena chuckles. “No, she’s ‘holding that information hostage’ until I share your identity.”

“I could always just text Sara and ask?” Kara offers, chuckling a bit too. “If you really want to know.”

Lena’s eyes light up with amusement. “Using those fabled brain cells, are you, Danvers?”

“Yeah, yeah. If you want to wash up, I’ll pull out some clothes for you,” Kara offers, stepping back from her empty plate. “I need to shower to get the blood out of my hair, so I’ll go after you.”

“Well, we are in the age of climate change, Kara. We should shower together to conserve water,” Lena smiles coyly, leaning forward. “If you want to, that is.”

“Well …” Kara breaks out in a grin. “If it’s in the name of saving the planet …”

The shower, while nobly intended to conserve water, probably spends more than if they had just gone separately. 

Kara’s not complaining though. It gets the blood out of her hair, and also down somewhere else between her legs. It’s not the sexiest shower they’ve ever taken though; she has to wear a special waterproofing patch to keep her wound dry (a Luthor Corp product, actually) and it apparently makes her look ridiculous, if Lena’s giggling is anything to go by.

“Now that I’m not freezing-cold this time, I have to say, your shower water doesn’t get particularly hot,” Lena notes, toweling off.

“Yeah,” Kara grimaces as she pulls the compromised waterproofing patch off. “That’s about as warm as it gets.”

“The horror,” Lena shivers.

“Well,” Kara says with a smile. “I do know a good way to warm back up …”

Kara will never tire of having a naked Lena Luthor in her bed, a stretch of silicone uniting them as one.

“You know,” Kara smirks, keeping the pace slow and relaxed. “I had a new career best tonight.”

Lena gives Kara a look of absolute admonishment. “Kara Danvers, do _not_ talk about _basketball_ when you are _inside_ of me. Understood?”

“Understood.” Kara winks and speeds up as an answer, noting how desperately Lena’s watching the muscles of her arms flex from underneath her.

“Can you do something for me?” Lena gasps, legs tight around Kara’s waist, pulling her closer.

“Anything,” Kara nods, hips rocking forward continuously.

Lena bites her lower lip as she stares at Kara, clearly debating something. “Give me your hand.”

Kara obliges, shifting her weight onto one arm.

Lena brings Kara’s hand up to her pale neck and wraps both their fingers around. “Squeeze from the sides, not the front. Gradually go firmer.”

“I know how to choke, Lena,” Kara swallows, a soft frown on her face. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Lena nods. “I trust you.”

Kara has no idea how to feel about that, so she locks in to the task at hand.

“Tap me three times or use your words,” Kara states, tensing her hand slightly inward with controlled strength. “Good?”

“Yes,” Lena gasps under her. Kara starts rocking her hips again.

“More?” Kara asks, watching Lena’s face for any single sign of distress. There’s nothing. There’s not a single thing to indicate Lena’s having anything less than a fantastic time; her pupils are blown wide and breathy moans keep escaping from her perfect lips.

“More,” Lena demands.

Kara delivers with mindful, tempered strength.

Lena starts to come undone underneath Kara's flexed arms and refined power, but it’s Kara who utterly falls apart. The friction is enough for them to hit their peaks at the same time, and Kara all but collapses on top of Lena.

“Fuck,” Kara exhales into Lena’s neck.

“Fuck,” Lena agrees. “You're heavy. Next time, _I’ll_ be on top.”

Next time? On top? That mental image practically explodes Kara’s poor brain.

“Kara, off,” Lena nudges her playfully. “Smothering isn’t what I requested.”

Kara pulls her into a deep kiss before pulling out and plopping down by Lena’s side.

“So …” Kara says, a playful lilt to her voice. “You liked being choked?”

She can hear Lena’s eyes roll in the darkness of the apartment. “I truly would kill you right now, Kara, but then I’d be out a half-way decent fuck buddy.”

The back of Lena’s hand comes up to playfully swat at her face. It brushes against Kara’s fresh wound, glue not doing anything to dull the sensitivity in such a tender area. 

“Ah!” Kara hisses. “Head.”

“Oh, Kara, I’m so sorry!” Lena exclaims, sitting upright to grab her phone. “I completely forgot.”

“It’s fine, hey, don’t worry,” Kara assures. “I’m fine. I’ve got a hard head.”

“I’m sorry,” Lena squeaks again. Her phone screen lights up and Kara can see the breathtaking profile of her face now.

“Don’t worry, Luthor,” Kara nudges her with her shoulder playfully. “And I won’t say anything; I don’t share what’s not mine to say. Thank you for trusting me.”

“Of co— shit, Kara, I think you’re bleeding!” Lena holds her hand under the light of her phone. “You are.”

“Shit …” Kara groans, begrudgingly sitting up and ripping the sheets off. “I must’ve ripped the glue.”

“It’s okay, it’s not a lot,” Lena says, setting a gentle hand on Kara’s bare thigh. “I’ll clean it up in the bathroom.”

_Lena’s going to clean it_. For some odd reason, the thought of that sends a shiver down Kara’s entire body.

Kara’s voice feels very small when she whispers, “Okay.”

They clean up quickly and redress — both in Kara’s shirts and boxers — before heading to the bathroom. Coming from the soothing darkness of her bedroom, the fluorescent bathroom lights sting Kara’s eyes. She tries incredibly hard not to imagine what the next few minutes will be like; nowhere to hide under Lena’s piercing, attentive stare, her light touch against Kara’s broken skin, their lips only inches apart.

They’ve kissed before, many times, but this is different. 

This is undeniably raw.

Desperate for something to occupy her, Kara pulls out the first aid kit from beneath the sink vanity, only for Lena to pluck it from her hands and start digging around.

“Do you want me to stand or sit?” Kara asks, shifting back and forth on her legs.

“Stand,” Lena says, turning back around to face the blonde. “But tilt your head down.”

Kara obeys.

“Hold still for me,” Lena orders, wrapping one soft hand under Kara’s jaw. Her grip is firm, riveting Kara’s skull in place, but it does absolutely nothing to stop her racing heart.

Something cold and wet starts to wipe at her wound.

Kara doesn't know where the breath to speak comes from, because there’s certainly very little in her chest.

“Thanks for doing this,” she whispers.

“Anything for you, _Supergirl_ ,” Lena teases, and never in her life has Kara wanted words to be genuine more.

Lena’s fingers are so gentle, so soft, so soothing against her scalp, and Kara can feel her eyes fall closed under Lena’s careful ministrations.

It’s a peace she’s truly never known.

“There,” Lena says softly, and Kara’s eyes open to meet emerald green. Every single molecule of air is gone from the room, taking the walls with it. The only thing left is Lena.

It hits Kara like the birth of a new star: _Lena Luthor, I could fall in love with you._

_Oh._

Oh, no.

* * *

Kara awakens to a terrifying realization.

_She caught feelings._

She, Kara Danvers — apparent fuckboy-extraordinaire — has _feelings_ for Lena Luthor.

Kara very slowly turns her head to the side, dreading looking upon the face of her realized affection.

The bed space beside her is empty, and Kara closes her eyes in relief. Well that’s a small mercy. 

But Lena Luthor doesn’t do mercy, and apropos to that very fact, her face appears in the doorway of Kara’s bedroom.

“Good morning,” Lena smiles softly, eyes sparkling in the sunlight. She leans against the doorframe; hair up, minimal makeup, dressed in her jeans from last night and another one of Kara’s sweatshirts.

It’s cruel, really. No one should get to look that good this early in the morning.

“G-good morning,” Kara chokes out. Great, way to sound natural.

“Are you alright?” Lena asks, walking closer, worry across her face. “You look like you’re in pain.”

“I’m fine,” Kara squeaks. _I caught feelings for you._ She shoots the woman the largest, brightest smile she can muster. _I like you. I could fall in love with you, I’m fine._

Fuck, she needs to get out of this bed and find something to do before she says something stupid.

“I picked up Noonan’s,” Lena says. “You need food for your head, but I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so there are a few things to choose from.”

“Hell yeah,” Kara cheers, swinging her legs out of the bed to sit up.

Moving quickly is apparently an equally terrible idea as remaining in the bed would’ve been, as her wound gives a painful pulse. Thankfully, it’s just surface level (no concussion here).

“Oh, fuck,” Kara mumbles, clutching her head. She shuts her eyes and runs a feather-light finger around the wound.

“Are you alright?” In a split second, Lena’s soft hands are resting on Kara’s bare knees and there's a body between her legs. 

Kara opens her eyes. Lena Luthor is _on her knees_ between Kara’s legs, looking up at _Kara_ , her green eyes full of warm concern.

Kara’s heart melts to a place she hasn’t felt in a very long time. She feels a bit like a deity, the subject of such a revenant gaze.

“Kara?” Lena prompts again. 

“Never better,” Kara gasps. She’s not sure if it’s truth or lie.

“Good,” Lena accepts with a nod, standing up.

Kara follows to her feet, moving a bit slower. She doesn’t have her contacts in, and she doesn’t know where her glasses ended up, but it’s for the best she can’t see in high-def right now. It’s better to have her senses dim — less likely to overwhelm her — and hope her resolve holds.

Lena steps forward, places a hand on Kara’s shoulder, and pulls herself in to inspect Kara’s wound. The blonde holds still as steel, barely breathing. Their lips still hover only inches apart, and Kara has never known a temptation like this one.

“This looks better,” Lena notes, eyes staring intensely at the broken skin. A cold shiver runs down Kara’s entire body. “There’s considerable bruising adjacent but the scab looks solid.”

Kara can’t do anything but give a single nod.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I borrowed one of your sweatshirts,” Lena says, stepping back and pulling at the fabric over her torso.

It’s Kara’s favorite sweatshirt; royal blue with a black and red meteor on the front — the colors of the Metropolis Meteors. Clark had given it to her as a gift the last time he re-signed with the Meteors.

Mind? Fuck, in this moment, she would let Lena take any item of clothing she wants. Or all of them. Anything to see her wearing something of Kara’s.

“It looks good on you,” Kara says instead, eyes raking over Lena with admiration. _More like perfect_ , she thinks.

“Thank you,” a bit of pink appears on Lena’s cheeks. “I thought it would be the most discreet, since the rest of your clothes seem to be thoroughly labeled with your name and number.”

“Discreet?” Kara blanks.

“Very funny,” Lena shakes her head, smiling. “I realize we’ve half-way discarded the rules, but some of them still exist, Kara.”

Oh, _fuck._ The rules. Right.

How unfortunate that Kara had just blown the last remaining one to ash and stardust.

That would certainly mean the instantaneous end of things, if Lena knew. _If_ she knew.

But … she doesn’t need to know. Not yet.

And in that moment, Kara resolves herself to face an impossible decision: lie and keep Lena in her life for a little longer, or tell the truth and lose her on the spot.

It’s an easy choice after all.

She still wants this.

“Hey, it’s not my fault I’m practically showered with free gear; athlete perks,” Kara says, shoving her feelings so deep within, it might as well be entombed in the Earth’s inner core. “Besides, I seem to have a lot less in my possession than usual.”

“If you would remember to take your possessions back, you wouldn’t have this concern,” Lena points out. “There’s a small mountain of basketball clothes in my closet waiting for you.”

“Fair,” Kara smiles, using the sweatshirt in question to pull Lena in for a kiss before she can stop herself.

Oh, too much? No, that’s normal, it’s okay, she’s done that plenty of times before. It would be weird to _not_ do it. Right?

“Come on,” Lena says when they break apart, lips twisted up into a hint of a smile. “Go eat, I know you’re dying to.”

Kara darts right for the kitchen. Spread out on the counter are multiple paper bags and a cup labeled ‘pumpkin spice latte, xtr. foam, cinnamon’. 

Lena remembered her favorite.

That dropkicks Kara’s heart into the stratosphere. But she ignores it.

“Lena, this isn’t a ‘few things’ to choose from,” Kara marvels at the array. “This is like half the menu! I would know, I was a waitress there last summer.”

“You were?” Lena asks. “And it’s nothing, I wanted to ensure you were well fed. Wound healing is impaired under a calorie deficit.”

"Look at you,” Kara smiles, grabbing the bag that looks like it would be filled with pastries. “You’re hot when you talk science.”

Lena snorts and rolls her eyes. “You’re easy to please.”

“It’s one of my charms,” Kara jokes, biting into a muffin. She looks over at Lena’s empty hands with concern, “Did you get yourself anything?”

“I finished my coffee already,” Lena says, “I should go. I have class and I still need to go home and change my clothes.”

Kara nods, stepping back and glancing at the time. “Probably for the best. Alex will be home any minute. Oh — and grab a scone! You need to eat.” 

She holds out the paper bag for Lena to dig through.

“Wouldn’t want to tempt fate, I suppose,” Lena says, obliging the blonde by taking a pastry. “I’ll see you around, Danvers.”

“Bye, Lena,” Kara smiles softly, watching as the raven-haired woman disappears behind the wooden door.

Kara doesn’t move from her spot in the foyer, stuck just staring at the cheap dingy door, mind empty yet terribly full at the same time. She’s not sure how much time passes. She just stays perfectly still in that moment, afraid of what it’ll mean when she leaves it. If she doesn’t move, she doesn’t have to deal with the catastrophe brewing inside.

Then, she no longer has a choice.

The door swings open in a fury and a familiar head of auburn hair appears in its place.

“Hi,” Alex smiles wickedly. The door slams shut behind her. She crosses her arms and narrows her eyes, looking concerningly ready to rip Kara’s head off. 

“Everything okay?” Kara looks at her with concern. She’s already full on crises for today.

“You tell me,” Alex states. “Why did _Lena Luthor_ just walk out of our apartment wearing your sweatshirt?”

Kara’s heart stops.

  
  


_Fuck!_

* * *


	12. potsticker powerbitch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex finds out. Lena discovers a new power. Kara has a nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe this is over 100K words now, seriously. This started off as a little side project and it has just grown into something far beyond my wildest expectations. Thank you all for the kind words and support along the way, and enjoy the next chapter!
> 
> Also, shoutout to IcarusAndHerSun for the beta read; thank you very much for all your hard work with this.

* * *

**_(Al’s Dive Bar, back in November …)_ **

Kara has a fuck buddy.

Alex is fine with it, really. She knows who her sister is, and the reputation she has. Alex has settled her initial mortification into begrudging resignment. She knows Kara’s smart and safe — _that_ had been quite the uncomfortable discussion — and Alex has learned not to worry. 

She still does a little bit … only because Kara has the _worst_ taste in women. Alex blames it on Kara’s hero, knight-in-shining-armor complex. Always trying to save everyone. It got her hurt with Leslie, and Alex is terrified it’s going to happen again.

But otherwise, Alex has mostly accepted Kara’s vice for what it is.

(Plus, Kara has actually pulled quite a few attractive women. Casual hook-ups aren’t really Alex’s thing, but she can still live a bit vicariously through her sister.)

But ‘hot girl bummer’ officially has Alex vexed.

Because ‘hot girl bummer’ is Kara’s new _fuck buddy_. The same Kara who had a rather tumultuous ending to her last fuck-buddy arrangement, and had since sworn off anything more stable than a one-night-stand.

And the worst, most frustrating part?

No one knows who ‘hot girl bummer’ is.

Initially, it’s not really of concern, other than a quick conspiratorial conversation the first time Lucy catches Kara texting her. They forget for a while. But then Kara starts sneaking out of the bar earlier and earlier every time they go out. She doesn’t come home after her night out with Clark. And then she starts smiling at her phone screen.

It doesn’t go unnoticed.

In fact, it’s now very noticed, two months later. It’s Casino Night at Al’s, and they’re in the gambling mood. 

The friends’ finish the night crammed into their usual booth, minus Kara who has since disappeared for the night. Maggie is tucked into the corner, Alex practically in her lap, Winn to Alex’s side, then Imra crammed in on their end. On the other side is James, Lucy, and Mike. 

And they’re all engaged in passionate debate over the identity of Kara’s ‘hot girl bummer’.

“Does anyone know _who_ this girl is, constantly stealing Kara away?” Lucy asks around the booth. “Alex, sister-privileges got anything for me?”

“Don’t look at me,” Alex shakes her head. “I’ve never seen Kara so secretive about a girl before.” It’s true, despite the fact that Alex knows her sister better than anyone, she still has no idea who this girl is, even over two months after it all started.

“Ugh, that just makes me want to know even more!” Lucy clenches her fists in anticipation. “I bet it’s someone really interesting. And maybe a little shameful …”

“What if it’s a professor?” James suggests, tipping his beer forward. “That would explain all the secrecy.”

“Kara is not sleeping with a professor,” Alex objects, a harsh frown across her face. Kara would never! Though, she can’t deny her sister often thinks with her heart and her … other parts, before she thinks with her head.

“What about a coach?” Mike asks, words slightly slurred. “The new women’s soccer coach is _so_ hot.”

“Is she now?” Imra asks, giving her boyfriend a very unimpressed look across the table.

“Uh, no, no, not really,” Mike shakes his head rapidly. “Winn—Winn thinks she’s hot.”

Alex rubs at her brow as Winn nods a bit too vigorously next to her.

“Enough,” Lucy states. “We’ve gotten off-track. In honor of Casino Night, I suggest a little more gambling. Specifically … a pool.”

“A pool?” Winn asks. “A betting pool?”

“Correct, Winslow,” Lucy nods. “Kara doesn’t exactly keep her hookups a secret, which means there’s something interesting about this one. And so we might as well get something out of it too.”

“I’m in,” Winn smiles.

“Same,” Mike agrees.

“You cleaned me out last time,” James grumbles, but he pulls out his wallet anyways.

“Ladies?” Lucy turns to look at her teammates.

“I’m in,” Maggie nods.

Alex groans. “Can we not do this?”

“We’re Kara’s friends,” Lucy insists. “It’s well within our rights if she doesn’t want to share. So — votes! Winn, start us off?”

Winn pouts thoughtfully for a moment. “I think it’s someone new. Maybe someone who’s not out yet. Someone we don’t know … like one of Kara’s old co-workers from Noonan’s. Ooh! No, an athlete.”

“Pick one,” Lucy demands.

“Okay, athlete then,” Winn decides with a firm nod. He then rolls his eyes and mumbles, “I’ve heard so many girls in the gym gossiping about Kara Danvers’ biceps, it’s got to be one of them.”

“Okay. I’m going with Veronica Sinclair,” Lucy states. “Kara backslid into Rich Bitch and she’s too embarrassed to admit it, so that’s why she’s being sneaky. Next, Mike?”

“Hmm, I like the backslide theme,” Mike thumbs his chin. “I’ll guess it’s Siobhan again. She’s a crazy bitch but Kara’s got a weak spot for that.”

Alex buries her face in her palms. All of these are _terrible_ options.

“Okay, Matthews, I respect it,” Lucy nods her approval. “Imra?”

“I’ll pass,” Imra says. “I don’t know Kara well enough to actually trust I’ll make a realistic bet, and I try not to just throw away my money.”

“Fair enough. Maggie?” Lucy asks next.

“Lena Luthor,” Maggie says, eyes slightly narrowed with a soft smirk on her face. If Alex had taken the time to actually look over at her girlfriend instead of continuing to bury her face, she would’ve noticed Maggie wearing her signature look of _‘I know something and I’m right’._

But Alex is too busy being mortified over her sister’s sex life to notice.

“Waste of a vote, Mags; they _hate_ each other, but okay,” Lucy says. “Alex?”

“Leave me out of this,” Alex requests, head jerking back up. She brushes her hair back with her hands. “I don’t bet on my little sister’s sex life.”

“Boo,” Lucy pouts. “And last but not least, James?”

“I’m sticking with my professor theory,” James says.

“Okay,” Lucy exhales, setting her phone down in the center of the table. “All bets are set. Now, what’s the buy-in?”

“Twenty?” Mike suggests.

Multiple voices chime in to agree with twenty dollars. With five of them participating, that’s a nice hundred-dollar pot for the victor.

“Alright,” Lucy nods. “That’s that. Hot Girl Bummer Pool is officially set and closed.”

“Thank god,” Alex sighs. “Can we please talk about _anything_ else?”

Alex tries very hard to bury that night’s discussion deep down into her latent memory. She really doesn’t want to think about Kara’s sex life, her taste in women, or this ‘hot girl bummer’.

Even if she’s a bit curious herself. She’s noticed all the changes too. And the biggest one? Kara’s been singing more than ever, when she’s idling around their apartment, which is a surefire indicator that something has her _happy_.

And Alex Danvers knows enough to guess it’s ‘hot girl bummer’. 

So months later, one cold January morning, Alex Danvers sees Lena Luthor walk out of _her_ apartment building — wearing a distinct royal blue Meteors sweatshirt — and everything clicks together faster than a speeding bullet.

Well, Maggie will certainly be paying for their next dinner date … and they’re going somewhere fancy.

* * *

**_(Danvers’ Apartment, present day January …)_ **

“Why did _Lena Luthor_ just walk out of our apartment wearing your sweatshirt?”

Kara’s heart stops.

_Fuck!_

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!

“And did you buy out Noonan’s? I get stress-eating but this a ton of food,” Alex squints at the bags of food before returning her piercing glare on Kara.

“Uh …” Kara trails off, desperately racking her brain for a good lie, _any lie_ , to save her. “It’s not what you think! … I, uh, had to take her dog to the vet.”

“I highly doubt Lena Luthor has a dog, Kara,” Alex states. “And I don’t think vets are open at seven-thirty in the morning.”

The damage is already done. Might as well embrace it.

“Fine,” Kara flops down on the couch. “It’s exactly what you think.”

“You fucked Lena Luthor?!” Alex exclaims, stomping closer. “And you let her sleep over? You never bring girls here.”

The words come out before Kara can stop them. “Well she’s already slept here bef—”

“She’s slept here before?” Alex deadpans. “How long has this been going on? What about your other thing?”

Kara winces. “About that …”

“No, don’t tell me,” Alex holds up a hand. “ _She’s_ ‘hot girl bummer’? That means this has been happening since—”

“Yes,” Kara sighs. “ … and since September.” 

“September!?” Alex yells. “Kara, are you out of your mind?”

“Probably,” Kara mumbles.

“You can’t actually be doing this,” Alex scoffs. “You’re joking.”

“I’m not joking, and I have been _doing this_ ,” Kara says.

“Oh my god. Of course. It all makes sense now,” Alex says, pacing around the room, talking more to herself than Kara. “The ‘putting aside your differences’ bullshit. Always leaving the bars early. Being late to practice! And — oh my god — that watch isn’t fake, is it?” Alex points an accusatory finger at Kara’s wrist.

“No, it’s not,” Kara admits, rolling a hand around the item in question. “It was a gift from Lena.”

“‘Lena’? Okay _that_ sounds bizarre to hear you say,” Alex says. “And a gift? Are you guys dating?”

“No!” Kara jerks up, a firm hand splayed in the air in front of her. “No, absolutely not. It was just a thank-you.”

“How did this start?” Alex asks, exasperation softening her tone. She brings a hand up to pinch the bridge of her nose. “I thought you couldn’t stand her.”

“I didn’t plan this,” Kara says. “It just happened one night at Al’s. We were both drunk and snapping at each other and then all of a sudden we were making out.”

“Right, of course, right,” Alex mumbles. “Continue …”

“Anyways, we had—”

“—nope! Don’t wanna know!—”

“—a lot of _fun_ , and it just kind of kept happening,” Kara explains. “Then I ran into her when I went out with Clark, but she got too drunk and I had to take her home—“

“—there’s the knight-in-shining-armor complex—“

“—and then we started talking a little, and she’s actually a really great person,” Kara finishes.

“Oh, is she?” Alex asks sarcastically. “She’s a Luthor. Her family owns the Evil Empire of big pharma.”

“Lena’s more than just her last name,” Kara stands up, her jaw set as firm as steel. “She’s a good person.”

Alex seems to have sensed the shift in her mood, and backs down a step. “Fine. I’ll take your word for it. So what are you guys then?”

“Fuck buddies,” Kara says. “Friends-with-benefits.”

“Friends-with-benefits?” Alex repeats. “I thought you weren’t doing that anymore? Not after how things ended with Siobhan.”

“Lena’s not Siobhan,” Kara states, more a reminder for her benefit than Alex’s. Lena doesn’t want feelings involved; she doesn’t want this to be something more. And it’s for the best that way.

“Fine,” Alex sighs. “Why all the secrecy and sneaking around?”

“This conversation, for one,” Kara shoots Alex an annoyed look. “But Lena has a bunch of rules and that was one of them.”

“Rules?” Alex crosses her arms. “Like what?”

Oh, fuck, right.

“Uh,” Kara blushes. “No one can know.”

“We’ve covered that. Next.”

“No sleepovers.”

“I see that one held up well.”

“No weeknights.”

“Okay. Anything else?” Alex raises her eyebrows. “You look like you just killed her non-existent puppy.”

“No feelings,” Kara exhales.

“No feelings,” Alex repeats. “Well, yeah, that one makes a lot of sense. So what happens if a rule gets broken?”

“Well …” Kara winces. “We’ve kind of broken most of them … and I might’ve broken one she doesn’t know about.”

“What, that I know now?” Alex asks.

“No,” Kara grimaces. “Technically Jack, her friend, found out before you.”

“Wow, okay, that cuts deep,” Alex hisses. “What ever happened to sister-privileges? Sneaking around is one thing, but behind my back?”

“I just want to point out, who do you think I learned to sneak around from?” Kara objects. She’s grateful to deflect any attention possible away from herself.

“Rude,” Alex says. “And this is different. Maggie and I are teammates, we had to be discrete.”

“It’s not really that different,” Kara objects. “You and Maggie didn’t want anyone to know. Lena and I don’t want anyone to know. It’s the same thing.”

“But _Lena Luthor_ _?”_ Alex gawks. “Isn’t that like social awkward suicide for you both? You’ve hated her for the past two years. Ever since …”

“Ever since what, Alex?” Kara hisses, more annoyed at herself than her sister. “Because that’s just the thing — I don’t even remember anymore!”

“Well,” Alex hums in thought. “She cut you off in the parking lot that one time.”

“Alex,” Kara gives her an unimpressed look. “Mike has cut us off plenty of times too. There’s no honor or loyalty in the parking lot. Even Lucy stole a spot from under you once!”

“Fine, whatever,” Alex shrugs. “What about the time she yelled at you in the dining hall for getting in her way?”

“No, I spilled a drink on her first,” Kara corrects. “It started as my fault.”

“O-kay. And then there was that other time that …” Alex trails off weakly, gesturing a hand out, hoping for it to be magically filled with an example.

“See?” Kara exhales. “How bad could it have been if no one even remembers anymore?”

“Okay, whatever, the past is the past,” Alex says. “But there’s clearly something else. What’s bothering you?”

“It kinda … gets worse,” Kara admits, throwing an arm over her face.

“How could it get worse?” Alex asks, hand to her forehead.

“I think I might, maybe, kind of … have feelings for her,” Kara admits.

“What?!”

“I don’t know!” Kara bolts upright. “It just kind of happened.”

“How long have you known?” Alex squints.

“I realized last night,” Kara confesses. “It just … hit me.”

Alex lets out a rueful chuckle, glancing out the window. “Oh my god, you _never_ think these things through. ”

“Of course I thought this through!” Kara objects, darting to her feet. “The whole reason I even went ahead with it in the first place was because it was with _Lena Luthor._ Someone I never thought I _could_ ever catch feelings for.”

“That worked well. This is clearly an absolute dumpster-fire of a situation,” Alex sweeps her arms out angrily, “What are you going to do?”

Kara makes a face. “What do you mean ‘what am I going to do’?”

“What you’re going to do about your feelings,” Alex says. 

“Nothing,” Kara exhales, a determined look on her face.

“Nothing?” Alex’s jaw drops open. “Okay, uh, that’s _the worst_ idea I’ve ever heard. You can’t just pretend like they don’t exist.”

“Okay, woah!” Kara exclaims, setting her shoulders back and her chin upwards. “If you want to talk about horrible ideas, let’s review some of yours, huh?”

“I might’ve made a lot of questionable decisions,” Alex points defensively. “But I would never willingly sign up to let Lena Luthor break my heart.”

“Well, I guess we’re different,” Kara states. “If I wanted lessons in self-destruction, I would have asked!”

“You don’t need them, you’re doing great on your own!” Alex yells. “You’re not thinking with your head, Kara, you never do! You see the best in everyone and it’s going to get you hurt!”

Kara’s nostrils flare, her muscles tensing defensively.

“Has it even occurred to you Lena set those rules for a reason?” Alex continues. “So she didn’t hurt _you?”_

Kara wholly disregards the validity of that point. She doesn’t get hurt, she doesn’t let herself get close enough to.

The sisters stare at each other, chests heaving with restrained anger. Kara’s eyes are practically glowing with heat, and Alex’s jaw is set so firmly it could stop a bullet. Neither one wants to back down.

Kara sure as hell won’t. The steel in her bones won’t let her.

But Alex eventually does.

“Sit down,” she says, her voice softer than usual. It’s a far cry from her recent yelling. “Tell me about her.”

Kara eyes her wearily. “What’s the catch?”

“There’s no catch,” Alex sighs, sitting back on the couch. “… I should hear you out. I’m still going to give you my opinion—”

“— _great_ , just what I wanted—”

“—but you deserve a chance to explain your side first,” Alex finishes.

“Oh.” Kara takes a moment to think. “You really want to know about her?”

“Yes,” Alex exhales dramatically. “It’s been ages since you _liked_ someone. I haven’t had a chance to talk about girl-crushes with you since Leslie.”

Kara winces at the name. “Don’t remind me.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Alex soothes. “Leslie wasn’t your fault. That was not a healthy relationship and you were right to end things. She shouldn’t have pushed you to open up when you weren’t ready.”

“I know,” Kara sighs. “I just still feel guilty. What if she had a point, Alex?”

“She didn’t,” Alex says softly. “… Are you considering telling Lena about your parents?”

“No,” Kara frowns. “No. I told her I was adopted and my parents were gone, but that’s it.”

Alex’s eyebrows shoot up but she holds her tongue.

“You really like her, don’t you?” Alex realizes, shifting closer to Kara.

“I do,” Kara admits. “She’s so clever, and generous, and caring.”

Alex watches her patiently, giving her the silence to continue.

“Oh, Alex, she’s _so_ smart too,” Kara says. “She taught me to play chess and she kicked my ass so many times.”

 _"You_ played chess?” Alex snorts. “You have a fuck buddy and you two literally played _chess_ in your free-time?”

“I know. And above all else? She’s so kind. She has a genuinely good heart, whether she knows it or not,” Kara says. “Even though she shouldn’t be, she’s _soft_ , even though the world has been terrible and hard to her.”

“What do you mean?” Alex’s brow furrows. “She grew up in one of the wealthiest families in the country; she couldn’t have had a hard life. She’s a _Luthor_.”

“She wasn’t always,” Kara says softly. “She was adopted too.”

“Is that why you have a soft-spot for her?” Alex asks. “She’s got a tragic backstory too?”

“I’m pretty sure her tragic backstory came after the adoption; I don’t think it made her life any easier,” Kara says. “Her mom is … a terrible person.”

“Anyone who reads the news knows that,” Alex adds. “What Luthor Corp charges for their medicine is absolutely criminal.”

“I know that,” Kara huffs. “I mean explicitly to Lena. She treats her terribly. And she’s not very accepting of Lena liking women.”

“Oh.” Alex takes a sharp inhale. “Wait — you met her mother?”

“Not exactly,” Kara squirms. “Lillian came into Lena’s apartment one morning unannounced. I had to hide. But I heard everything.”

“You do have scary-good hearing,” Alex mumbles under her breath. “So what you heard …?”

“Was bad,” Kara confirms. “Lena was so shaken afterwards, that I had been there to hear it, that she kicked me out. We didn’t talk until last night.”

“And you made up?” Alex guesses.

Kara nods. “We slipped right back into things, it was so easy. She makes me feel weightless, Alex.”

“Oh, you got it so bad …” Alex shakes her head, her lips pulling up slightly. “Do you love her?”

“No!” Kara shouts. “No … at least, not yet.”

“Kara …” Alex gives her a cautious look.

“I know,” Kara closes her eyes.

“You need to either break things off now,” Alex lists, “Or tell her you have feelings and see if she feels the same way.”

“No, Alex,” Kara opens her eyes. “If I tell Lena, she’s going to end things right away. If I still have feelings for her in June, I’ll tell her then. That way I have the entire summer to get over her, far away in Midvale.”

“Kara, that’s a horrible, terrible idea,” Alex says. “You can’t just pretend like you don’t have feelings for her for the next several months.”

“I can and will.”

“Why are you being so stubborn?” Alex rubs her forehead. “God, Kara, you’re going to get seriously hurt if this goes too far. What happens when — not if — you do fall in love with her?”

“I won’t,” Kara states. “Alex, you know I don’t do _love_.”

“Right, because you can just ‘shut it down’ whenever,” Alex mumbles.

“And I’m not going to get my heart broken, Alex,” Kara assures, “I promise, I’ll break things off with her before I fall for her completely. I’m just not ready to be done yet.”

“I’m your big sister, Kara,” Alex says. “I’m always going to want to protect you. But you seem determined to do this, so I won’t stop you. Just … consider telling her sooner, okay?”

Kara just nods, fully disregarding Alex’s final request. Telling Lena means losing Lena, and she’s not going to do that yet. Besides, her feelings are new and small and just starting. She has time.

She can’t tell her yet.

“Okay,” Kara lies.

“Well,” Alex sighs, rising to her feet and offering a hand to Kara. “This isn’t exactly the way I pictured my morning going, but I’m glad I know what’s going on with you now.”

“Yeah,” Kara agrees, taking the hand. “It’s nice to get it off my chest. But Alex, you can’t tell anyone.”

“Where are my keys?” Alex deflects over her shoulder, walking away.

“The key bowl,” Kara answers. “Alex, I mean it!”

“Want a ride to campus?” Alex asks, pilfering through the bags of food on the counter.

“Hey, that’s mine!” Kara objects, forehead crinkling. “And yes please. Can you drop me off at the training room? I have to do the second half of the concussion protocol with Demos.”

“Sure. I’m guessing Lena bought all of this?” Alex says, holding up a cinnamon roll. “And considering I now have to keep your newest secret, it’s the least you could do to buy my silence.”

“Fine,” Kara huffs. “But seriously, Alex, you can’t even tell Maggie. No one else can know.”

“Fine,” Alex agrees with a great amount of annoyance, biting into the pastry. “Now come on, get dressed while I put the rest of this away so we can go. I don’t want to be late.”

* * *

Lena finds herself seated courtside again at Kara’s next home game, only a few days later, Jack by her side. 

“You seem to have reunited fully with your Romeo,” Jack remarks, watching Kara and Alex take some three-pointers as they warm up. “If that hickey is anything to go by.”

It’s futile to dispute, but Lena still needs to make Jack work for his victory. “Who says I’m Juliet?”

Jack lets out a belly laugh. “It’s in your nature.”

“And what does that mean?” Lena glares.

“Hasty and self-condemning,” Jack says. “Even when there’s no need.”

“This isn’t a love story, Jack,” Lena reminds. “We’re more like … well, none of those characters really.”

Jack opens his mouth to say something clever that Lena doesn’t want to hear, so she quickly asks, “How are things with you and William?”

Jack grins. “A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell. And he certainly doesn’t get head from his paramour in the storage room of Al’s and brag about it afterwards.”

“Oh my god,” Lena pales, a hand flying up to her agape mouth. “Jack Spheer, you did _not_.”

Jack breaks out in a very satisfied chuckle, nodding his head vigorously.

“Jack!” Lena slaps his shoulder with the back of her hand. “I can never set foot in there again, how dare you!”

“Oh, Lena, I’m sure you’ll suffer it well,” he teases, sighing dramatically. “Just like I’m forced to bear your terrible secret alone.”

Lena bites on her lower lip. “Jack, about that …”

She expected a dramatic reaction, but it still pales in comparison to the speed at which he sits up and practically jumps into her lap. 

“Who else knows?!” he gasps.

Lena swallows hard. “Her sister found out.”

. . . . . . . .

 **_K:_ ** _i have good news and bad news_

_Good news first._

**_K:_ ** _i don’t have a concussion. fully cleared to play_

_Congratulations. What’s the bad news?_

**_K:_ ** _alex knows about us_

_Well, fuck._

_Lena sucked on her teeth in frustration. For a second there, she was actually having a pretty amazing day. She got to wake up in Kara’s arms_ — _an action which her body and mind no longer seemed to register as being a bad thing_ — _stole another sweatshirt, ate a scone, and made it to class with plenty of time to spare._

_Now she has to come to terms with the horrible reality that Alex Danvers, Kara’s mildly terrifying older sister, knew they had taken ‘putting their differences aside' into ‘putting their fingers inside’._

_Fuck._

_But for all her abject horror at the concept, the last thing Lena wanted to do is scare Kara off, so she channeled all her nervous energy into maintaining her cool, aloof composure._

_Alright. Come over tonight?_

**_K:_ ** _are you mad? you seem mad_

_No, I’m not mad._

**_K:_ ** _but you’re using punctuation_

_(Yes? That’s how sentences work … what an odd observation. Kara must’ve been just as anxious as Lena felt.)_

_I always do?_

**_K:_ ** _huh, yeah, I guess you do_

_I’m not mad, Kara, I promise._

**_K:_ ** _okay, i’ll come over after practice then_

_Kara arrived at Lena’s late that night, looking a bit more haggard than usual._

_“You look … tired,” Lena noted._

_“Rough practice,” Kara replied. “J’onn overheard two of the freshmen talking about their outfits for going out this weekend, during a drill, and he made us run afterwards as punishment.”_

_“Sounds rather unpleasant,” Lena mused. “And I’m fairly certain collective punishment is a war crime.”_

_“Yeah, I’ll let you fight that battle,” Kara sighed, plopping down onto Lena’s couch. “J’onn can be very scary when he wants to be.”_

_“Oh, is the mighty Supergirl afraid of someone?” Lena mocked, sitting down next to her. Kara suddenly throws her legs into Lena’s lap, and the latter isn’t quite sure what to do next, so she just gingerly sets her hands over Kara’s bony shins, rubbing one thumb idly._

_“I’m not scared of J’onn,” Kara mumbled under her breath._

_Lena gave her a look of absolute disbelief._

_“So you’re really not mad that Alex knows?” Kara eyed Lena warily, like she’s mentally ready to jump out the window at the first sign of trouble._

_“No,” Lena exhaled._

_She’s had plenty of time to rehearse what to say; anything to keep her cool and hide from Kara just how intimidated she is by Alex Danvers. Even the idea of making eye contact with Alex, sharing that implicit understanding of ‘hey, I’m fucking your little sister and now you know’, is enough to chill her blood. Lena’s never been done meet-the-sibling before … an especially not with a fuck buddy._

_But Kara doesn't need to know that._

_“It would be hypocritical of me,” Lena continued with an effortless air. “Jack knows. Alex knows now too. As long as we don’t get into the habit of adding anymore people to the list, I think we’ll be fine.”_

_“Oh,” Kara sighed. “Oh, awesome.”_

_“With that said …” Lena gave her a sly look. “I wouldn’t mind if you made it up to me …”_

_Before Lena could blink, Kara was straddling her lap, biting her bottom lip as she smiled. “I can do that; give me five minutes and you’re not even going to remember who Alex is.”_

_(While Lena truly does believe in Kara’s superior abilities, that’s not exactly the kind of dirty talk she wants to reinforce.)_

_“Kara,” Lena deadpanned. ‘Don’t say your sister’s name while you’re trying to seduce me.”_

_“Right. Sorry.”_

. . . . . . . .

“How long?” Jack asks immediately. “When did she find out?”

“A few days ago.”

“Days!?” Jack screeches. “You kept this from me for _multiple_ days?”

“Consider it payback for your duplicitous stunt with Kara,” Lena states, crossing her arms.

“You’re handling this well,” Jack's eyes narrow.

“It’s inconsequential,” Lena shrugs. “Kara trusts Alex not to say anything, and so do I.”

“Oh my god,” Jack grins. “I never thought I would see the day that _Lena Luthor_ falls for a jock.”

“I have _not_ fallen for anyone,” Lena states firmly. “Least of all Kara Danvers.”

“Sure you haven’t,” Jack says, a bit too smug.

She turns to give him a glare that would melt a normal man to the bone.

“So have you asked her yet?” Jack changes the subject.

“Ask her what?” Lena frowns.

“To be your plus one, for your mom’s Luthor Foundation fundraiser next month,” Jack waves a hand. “You know I’d love to go and kiss Lillian’s ass for you, but my parents will be in town and I’m introducing them to William.”

“I will absolutely not ask her to be my plus one,” Lena states.

“Why not?” Jack challenges.

“Because …” Lena trails off as her words fail her. “We’re just friends-with-benefits.”

“I’m your friend,” Jack points out. “And I would do that for you.”

Lena sucks on her teeth. “Jack.”

“I’m just saying,” Jack shrugs. “A night of expensive booze and Michelin-star catered food? Sounds like a benefit to me. It would be almost weird to not ask her …”

“Fine,” Lena huffs. “I’ll _conside_ _r_ it.”

“There we go, love!” Jack grins.

“I hate you, Jack Spheer.”

“I love you too, darling dearest.”

Whatever venomous retort she has lined up for Jack is cut off by the roaring of the crowd as the Comets line up for their pre-game introduction.

“Starting tonight for your NCU Comets…” The announcer’s voice rings out, and Lena’s body betrays her with an involuntary pump of adrenaline.

One, two, five, ten, eleven. Kara has the highest number of all the starters, and goes last. The side of her face is still black and blue, but it does nothing to deter her proud smile.

“… and number eleven, Kara Danvers! …” Kara steps forward towards the crowd, mimes ripping her shirt off at the chest, then sends Lena a perfectly placed wink as she steps back in line.

Lena’s heart stops on the spot. 

“I think someone likes it when you watch,” Jack whispers in her ear, voice laden with double-entendre.

“That’s enough out of you,” Lena rolls her eyes, ignoring the heat spreading throughout her cheeks.

Surely, it’s just hot in here?

But it happens again at the next game, the next time that Kara’s eyes find her in the crowd. And then again. And before she knows it, her and Jack have seen almost every January home game for the Comets.

 _Fuck_. Lena might kind of enjoy basketball now.

* * *

Time progresses for Kara too. 

Her face heals up nicely. Demos was right, the scar is almost completely hidden in her hairline. Classes are simple enough, but basketball starts to heat up even more. As January shifts to February, the team has a long run of away games; it means plenty of time trapped on the bus for Kara to feel the gradual pressure of Alex’s judgment, which is growing stronger every day. (As is something else Kara doesn’t want to think about.)

Finally, Kara has enough of Alex one night. They don’t get back late until that Saturday, and they have another game Monday, which means no one can go out drinking. Instead, everyone just shuffles home with bleary eyes and sore bodies.

J’onn holds the captains back for a debrief — they lost today, and he’s frustrated enough about it to ask their opinions on what needs to be improved — so once M’gann leaves, Alex and Kara are left completely alone in the locker room.

“Alex, I can feel you staring at me,” Kara rolls her eyes as she zips up her backpack. “Just ask it; you haven’t said it in, like, two whole days.”

Sure enough, Alex asks, “Have you told her yet?”

“Told who what?” Kara plays innocent, tossing her backpack over her shoulder and heading for the locker room door. Alex’s hand reaches out to pull her back.

“You know who,” Alex deadpans. “Lena.”

“No.”

Alex’s face shifts into an immediate look of disapproval.

“What?” Kara yanks her shoulder out from under Alex’s hand. “Save me the judgment, Alex. I thought you weren’t going to get involved?”

“That was almost a month ago,” Alex points out. “You really want to tell me your feelings haven’t gotten stronger since then?”

“No, they haven’t,” Kara lies, yanking the locker room door open.

“You do know what ‘self-delusion’ is, right?” Alex asks, following in exasperation.

“Spare me the lecture, Alex,” Kara huffs.

“You’re unbelievable,” Alex sighs.

“Yeah, I get that a lot,” Kara snaps. 

Kara doesn’t want to admit it, but Alex is right; she’s not going to make it until June. Not with the way Lena keeps appearing in her every waking thought. And some of the asleep-ones too. But she’s still not ready to tell Lena yet; she knows if she does — that’ll be the end of them.

And Kara, ever a paragon of hope (or fear-driven procrastination), believes that maybe — just maybe — there could be a happy ending in this for them. With enough time, of course. And Lena finding out too soon means that they wouldn’t get that time. Besides, worst case, she could always just declare for the basketball draft and never come back to NCU, right?

“Look, I’ll tell her soon, okay?” Kara’s voice is soft now. “Just not yet.”

“Okay.” Alex might as well be a human ball of anxiety as they make their exit, but she’s thankfully silent after that.

Kara’s phone buzzes.

 **_hot girl bummer:_ ** _I’m here._

_walking out now_

Kara doesn’t even try to smother the grin creeping up her face.

Sure enough, once they exit the building, there’s a very expensive silver car waiting by the curb.

“You’re kidding,” Alex huffs, pushing her hair back in her hands. “Seriously?”

Kara shoots her sister an annoyed, close-lipped smile. “Seriously. Night, Alex.”

“Kara …” Alex tries to protest, but Kara’s already walking away.

The silver door slides up to greet her.

“Hey,” she gives Lena a tired smile as she hops in.

“Hey,” Lena smiles back. “I’m sorry about the loss.”

“Eh, it happens,” Kara sighs, clicking her seatbelt in. She hates losing, but she’s had plenty of time to burnout on the bus ride home. Plus there’s something placating about Lena’s presence.

“We got sloppy,” Kara elaborates. “It’s good to have a reality-check like that every once and awhile, especially since the postseason is only a month away.”

“It was still a good game to watch,” Lena says. “Jack came over to join me.”

“Glad you liked it,” Kara allows her body to sink back against the pre-warmed leather. “Mhgh, these seats are so much nicer than the ones on the bus.”

“Well, I hope so, they cost a small fortune,” Lena jokes. “Where to?”

Kara’s stomach gives an involuntary grumble that echoes throughout the car. 

“What would you like to eat?” Lena sighs, half exasperated, half amused.

“How do you feel about Chinese food?” Kara asks. “There’s a good place on the way to your apartment, actually. They only do takeout but they make my absolute favorite.”

“That works,” Lena nods, and the car rolls forward. “What’s your favorite dish?”

Kara breaks out into an excited grin, already dialing the number into her phone from memory. 

“Potstickers!”

* * *

Apparently, Kara’s favorite place — just like all her other places — is a small, hole-in-the-wall restaurant with a red awning over the front door. Kara hops out and heads inside to pick up the food, while Lena drives around the block, refusing to park her car in the one incredibly-tight parking space available on the street. (No one drives a car this nice to treat it that poorly.)

“Ready!” Kara says, sliding back into the car in one fluid motion.

“What do I owe you?” Lena asks automatically, pulling back into her lane.

“Owe me? What …?” Kara frowns. “Oh, for the food? Nothing!”

“Are you sure, Kara?” Lena frowns.

“Lena,” Kara states. “You only got a small thing of rice. I’m the one who ordered two pounds of potstickers. I’m paying.”

“Two pounds?” Lena’s eyebrows knit together. Kara’s eating habits will never not vex her.

“Roughly,” Kara shrugs. “Thanks for picking me up by the way.”

Lena gives her head a quick shake to discard the mental image of ingesting two whole pounds of oily (if not delicious) dough. It’s almost painful.

“It’s not a problem,” Lena says, swallowing roughly. “Actually, Kara, there’s a favor I need to ask of you …”

“What is it?” Kara asks.

Suddenly, there’s the telltale crinkling of the paper bag and a swift ‘pop’.

Lena doesn’t need to look over at Kara; she knows _exactly_ what’s going on.

The audacity!

“Kara Danvers, you put that potsticker back into the box _right now_ ,” Lena states, in full powerbitch mode. “I will _not_ have you dripping oil onto my _very expensive_ leather car seats.”

And just like that, the potsticker is back in the box and Kara is squirming in her seat. “Sorry.”

“You can wait until we get ho—back to the apartment,” Lena says, her heart skipping a beat at her almost-admission. Since when did her apartment become ‘home’?

“Yup,” Kara swallows roughly.

The blonde’s face is heavily flushed. Odd.

“Are you hot?” Lena asks, moving her hand to turn down the car heat.

“Not exactly.” The muscles of Kara’s neck jump out as she gulps. She looks a bit uncomfortable; she has the same distracted look on her face that she gets watching Lena tease her from across Al’s bar. 

Oh. _Oh._

“Kara Danvers …” Lena smiles coyly. “Are you _turned on_ right now?”

“I …” Kara gulps. “ … no.”

“That’s the biggest lie I have ever heard,” Lena smiles. “Oh my god. You like my powerbitch voice.”

“ … maybe.”

Well, that’s the most interesting thing Lena’s learned all week. She’ll have to put that to the test sometime. (It’s too late tonight though. Lena heavily suspects Kara will fall asleep the instant her stomach is full again.) 

“So what did you want to ask me?” Kara asks. “Before the … uhm …?”

“Oh!” Lena inhales, having completely forgotten her second motivator of the night.

Fuck, right, that.

She grips her steering wheel a bit tighter, hoping it’ll strengthen her resolve.

“I was wondering …” Lena grits her teeth. _It’s only a few words, it’s not that hard, Luthor._ “If you’d consider coming as my plus-one to a Luthor Corp event later this month. As a friend.”

“Luthor Corp event?” Kara repeats. “So like—”

“It’s not actually for Luthor Corp, it’s a fundraiser for the Luthor Foundation. I would normally ask Jack, but his parents are in town,” Lena explains quickly. “And honestly, these events usually wreak havoc on my anxiety levels, so I try to keep a friendly face around. I understand if you can’t, or don't—”

“—I’ll do it,” Kara cuts her off, looking at her with determined resolve. “Whatever you need.”

Lena’s actually stunned silent. That wasn’t the reaction she was expecting, truly.

“… you will?” she asks, slowly finding her words again.

“Of course. It’s a favor, right?” Kara smiles weakly. “Friends do favors for each other. Wait, shit, what day is it? I might have a game.”

“You do, but it’s home at 1:00,” Lena recounts. “I’ll need you starting at 6:00. Does that buy you enough time between?”

“Yeah, that’ll be fine,” Kara confirms. “Uh, what do you want me to wear?”

Lena turns to glance at her. “It’s fairly formal, so do you prefer a suit or a dress? I’ve mainly seen you in suits, but I wouldn’t want to presume …”

“I wear both. But for this, I’ll do a suit,” Kara decides. “I have my maroon one from Clark and Lois I could wear, does that—”

“—no, I’ll have one made for you,” Lena states. “Not that yours wouldn’t work, I just … I’d like to do this for you, as a thank-you for coming.”

“Are you sure, Lena?” Kara frowns. “Suits are really expensive and—”

“—and I’m a Luthor,” Lena says. “It’s nothing, truly. Do you have your measurements or shall I take you to the tailor’s?”

“I can ask Lois or Eliza for them,” Kara says. “Lois took me to a good tailor in Metropolis once.”

“That works, then.”

Well, that’s that. Kara Danvers is to be her plus-one to an event hosted by her mother. Lena’s stomach flips slightly. The feeling must be the come-down from all her nerves. That really hadn’t been so bad. Kara had made it easy.

It should scare Lena just how _easy_ everything seems to come with Kara, but she’s too relieved to care.

True to form, the rest of the night is easy and mellow.

Kara does actually restrain herself from eating the potstickers in Lena’s car, but by the time they reach Lena’s apartment door, about half of the dumplings are already gone. The speed at which they disappear is impressive, really. She does save some for later though, so that once they get settled into the apartment, Lena can have company while she eats at her fried rice. They go to their usual spots in Lena’s living room (how Kara ever turned it into the new dining room escapes Lena, but she actually kind of likes it) and they settle into a familiar comfort while they finish their food.

Kara goes to clean up the plates afterwards, but Lena swats her hand away and does it herself. Kara looks painfully ready for sleep and Lena’s gone soft enough to want to let her be. When Lena returns from the kitchen, Kara’s eyes are about halfway closed.

“Did you want to sleep together tonight?” Kara asks as she stands up slowly, propping her hands on her hips.

“‘Sleep’ as in sex?” Lena asks shamelessly, walking closer. “No, you’re too tired for that.”

“Nah, I’m good,” Kara insists. Despite her words, her mouth contorts as she tries to subtly force down a yawn. It doesn't work.

“No, you’re not,” Lena watches her with amusement. “You look like you could fall asleep standing up.”

Kara tries to protest, but this time the yawn actually does escape. “Okay,” Kara murmurs, rubbing one eye with her fist. “You might be right. Should I — I can call a ride?”

“No,” Lena says a bit too quickly. She’s not fully sure why she even says it. “No, you’re welcome to stay if you wish.”

Despite the exhaustion across her entire face, Kara lights up with a smile. “Okay.”

They wash up in the separate bathrooms, and Lena’s not sure if she’s relieved or saddened by the moment of space.

She really shouldn’t even be letting Kara stay over. Yet it’s the easiest decision she’s made in a long time. It’s just that she sleeps better when Kara’s around. 

That’s all.

But tonight is the exception to that rule.

Around four in the morning, judging by the bleary numbers on Lena’s clock, Kara starts thrashing and muttering in her sleep. 

It’s enough to wake Lena, the lighter sleeper, but not Kara. There’s a sheet of sweat over the blonde, visible in the considerable moonlight seeping in through the window.

“Astra, don’t …” Kara murmurs, face contorted in pain. “No! Don’t …”

“Kara,” Lena mumbles, slowly sitting up. “Kara, it’s just a dream.” 

“Astra,” Kara cries. “No, no …”

Kara’s distress only grows, despite Lena’s best attempts to wake her by calling her name. Her body is now twitching rapidly. Lena’s not sure exactly what to do, so she just grabs Kara’s dense shoulders and gives a solid squeeze.

She’s rewarded with Kara bolting upright, tearing the sheets with her, gulping down air. Her eyes are blown so wide that Lena can see white all around the edges.

“Kara, Kara, Kara. Shhh, shhh,” Lena soothes, pushing a damp lock of hair back behind Kara’s ear. “It’s okay. Hey, hey, hey.”

Kara continues to gasp, a noticeable bead of sweat trickling down her temple. She’s shaking, shivering almost. She balls her legs up to her chest and wraps her arms around them.

“You’re okay,” Lena repeats. “You’re okay.”

Her breathing steadies some but otherwise Kara remains completely unresponsive, staring at something far in the distance with pure terror in her eyes.

“Hey, look at me,” Lena commands. “Look at me.” She shifts up to be kneeling next to Kara, nudity forgotten, craning her head out into the blonde’s line of sight.

“Kara,” Lena croons, invoking some ancient, nurturing side she didn’t even know she had.

Frightened blue eyes lock onto hers.

“Lena?” Kara mumbles, a frown setting in. “Wha … what happened?”

“You were having a nightmare,” Lena explains. “Are you alright?”

“I …” Kara’s lips quiver as she tries to find her voice. “Yeah — yes, I’m fine. I-I’m so sorry.”

“It’s quite alright,” Lena assures. 

“I’m so sorry,” Kara continues. “I get those every once and awhile, but I thought …”

Lena remembers something she had once overheard from Alex; Kara got nightmares around some ‘anniversary’ back in December. She wonders if it’s not one of those.

Kara almost seems more perplexed about it than Lena does, frowning deeply while rubbing a hand over her chest. Lena can hear the faint metallic clink of Kara’s necklace chain.

The dots are starting to come into focus. The nightmare. Her father’s necklace. Her parents being gone.

Well, Lena might finally have some competition for worst tragic backstory. Even if it makes her feel a tad less lonely, her heart still aches for Kara’s wounded one.

“It’s alright,” Lena assures once more. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I …” Kara frowns. “I should probably go.”

“Absolutely not,” Lena states. “It’s the middle of the night. You’ll stay right here.”

“I don’t want to keep you from sleeping,” Kara objects, legs unfurling under the sheets once more.

“It’s alright,” Lena assures, lying prone again. “Tomorrow’s Sunday. And I’m not expecting any unwelcome visitors this time.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Lena says, pulling Kara’s forearm towards her. “Lay back down.”

Kara does so, sinking back into the fluff of the mattress. She turns onto her side to face Lena, who is watching Kara like a hawk.

“You can go back to sleep,” Kara says. “I’m okay.”

“And are you going to sleep as well?” Lena challenges.

“No,” Kara admits softly. “Probably not for a little bit.”

“Then I’m quite content as I am,” Lena says. Uncompromising green eyes hold blue and neither of them dare speak for the next few minutes. They don’t touch either, save for the very tips of their toes.

It’s Lena who’s eventually the brave one.

“Who’s Astra?” she asks softly, watching Kara’s face.

The corner of Kara’s mouth twitches involuntarily. “She was my aunt. My mother’s identical twin.” She swallows roughly, the muscles of her neck straining out.

The air in the room turns undeniably thick, waves of pure tension emanating from Kara. Lena’s fairly certain Kara would launch herself into space right now if she could, though Lena’s not sure as to the motivator — embarrassment, fear, or grief.

“You don’t talk about your biological parents much,” Lena notes. “But I’ve heard you brag about Eliza’s cooking so many times, I’ve lost count.”

“I don’t really talk about them with anyone,” Kara muses. “Except Kal. It just … it feels weird to talk about them with someone who never actually _knew_ them.”

“I know what you mean,” Lena says honestly. “I can tell someone that my mother — my biological mother — used to sing me the prettiest lullabies, but they’ll never actually _hear_ her.”

“Yeah,” Kara agrees softly. “Do you remember much about her?”

“Less and less every year,” Lena admits. “It’s just small, split-second moments now.” There’s an all-too-familiar ache in her heart, and she would imagine she’s not the only one feeling it right now.

“Tell me about her,” Kara requests, and her voice is so precious Lena can’t say no. Kara’s hand finds her own and their fingers intertwine, sinking together into the bedfoam.

“Well, she would sing to me before bed,” Lena recounts. “I don’t remember the words — they were in Gaelic anyways — but her voice was incredible. Hauntingly beautiful.”

“Do you know Gaelic?” Kara watches her, curious.

“I tried to teach myself once,” Lena admits. “But Lillian found out and all but banned it. It wasn’t ‘befitting’ language for a Luthor to know.”

“I’m sorry, Lena,” Kara’s thumb swipes over the back of Lena’s hand in soothing, slow motions. “You have every right to connect with that side of yourself.”

“Thank you, Kara,” Lena gulps. Never in her life has she ever admitted that to anyone, and now that she has, the response was nothing but absolute validation. It’s almost enough to melt a long-frozen heart.

“I think I might try again, someday,” Lena says. ”Supposedly, if you already know a second language, it’s easier to learn another.”

Kara’s head pops up like an excited dog. “You know another language?”

“Three,” Lena smirks, not feeling any need to be humble in Kara’s presence. “French and Japanese; Luthor Corp has partners in both places. I’ve picked up some rudimentary Spanish from Andrea too.”

“Diana tried to teach me Greek,” Kara chuckles. “It kinda worked; I can order just about any type of food now.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Lena teases. “Have you always been so food-oriented?”

“Always,” Kara says, smiling proudly. “My mom used to joke that I’d eat more than a bear. She even used to hide the snacks—”

“—that’s not a bad idea, actually,” Lena mumbles, more to herself than Kara.

“—but I always found them.”

Well, scratch that.

Kara’s smile falls from her face and she shifts a bit, drawing her free hand up to grab hold of her necklace. She then swallows so roughly Lena can hear it catch in the poor girl’s throat.

“I … I forgot the sound of my mom’s voice,” Kara confesses, voice so faint Lena can barely hear it. “The other day. I tried to remember what she sounded like, but … I can’t remember anymore.”

Kara’s eyes look a bit wetter in the moonlight.

Lena shifts her body closer to Kara without even realizing she’s doing it. There’s just an instinctive need to be close.

“I’m so sorry, Kara … But alright, look, your mother was more than just her voice; what else do you still remember about her?” Lena asks, desperate to keep Kara from falling into a pit she knows all too well.

“She was kind, and caring, and beautiful,” Kara recounts. “But firm. She was a judge, and upholding the law was very important to her. So she worked a lot. But she still always had time to help me with my homework.”

Lena doesn’t dare interrupt. She has a feeling from Kara’s slow, raspy pace that it’s been a very long time since these words have been said aloud in this order.

“I was closer with my dad,” Kara says. “He was an astronomer. We would go out and look at the stars every night, and he would tell me about the planets, and I would listen to _every_ word.”

Kara’s arm stands straight up into the air, hand flexed, painting an imaginary sky over them.

“He was a huge nerd, too,” Kara chuckles. “Very interested in fantasy. I tried to make him a dragon sculpture once, when I was eight. But I couldn’t get the wings right. He didn’t care; he was so proud of it …”

Kara's smile fades slowly as her mind goes somewhere far from Lena’s bed.

“It must have been hard for you to lose them …?” Lena tries to leave her words as open as possible. She doesn’t want to force Kara to say anything, but perhaps …

“It was.” That’s all Kara offers for a considerable moment. 

Lena assumes that’s all she’s going to get, but then Kara opens her mouth to speak once more.

“But I was so lucky to find the Danvers. Jeremiah — Alex’s dad — would spend _hours_ playing basketball with us every night,” Kara says. “He made it easier for me to adjust. He passed away a few years ago from a heart attack. But we still have Eliza, and she’s absolutely incredible. And I have Alex, of course.”

Lena feels a pang of jealousy. She remembers a picture frame on Kara’s dresser, of a man and a woman, with a young Kara and Alex sandwiched between them. They all looked so effortlessly happy, forever suspended in that moment. 

How lucky is Kara Danvers to have found a loving second family? Lena wouldn’t really know.

A moment of silence passes between them, their faces only inches apart. Kara smiles softly, her eyes riveted on Lena’s lips.

But Lena doesn’t notice. Because she's too busy thinking about how she really, really, wants to kiss Kara Danvers right now. 

But she can’t bring herself to.

So she focuses on memorizing the lines of Kara’s face.

“What’s this from?” Lena murmurs instead, trailing a finger over the old scar above Kara’s eyebrow.

“A long story.” Kara flinches back, jaw clenching shut.

Lena opens her mouth to apologize for whatever wound she’s poked her fingers into, but Kara speaks before she can.

“Tell me more about your mom,” Kara requests, and for a second time Lena is helpless to deny her.

Lena lets out a wistful sigh.

“She was a free spirit,” Lena says. “She loved the outdoors. There was a meadow she would always take me to. We would have lunch, and run and play in the field, the grass tickling our bare feet. I just remember laughing so hard my ribs would ache. Her smile never once fell from her face.”

“You have a beautiful smile, you know,” Kara tells her. “I’d bet you got it from her.”

“Well, I certainly hope so,” Lena defects, ignoring the warmth spreading throughout her chest. “I don’t even think Luthors have the DNA for smiling.”

“It sounds like you two spent a lot of time together,” Kara says. There’s just a touch of yearning in her voice, so subtle Lena almost misses it.

“It was just her and I for as long as I can remember,” Lena says. Her breath catches in her chest. “I … I’ve always blamed myself for losing her.”

“What happened?” Kara asks softly. “If you want to talk about it …?”

“No, it’s fine,” Lena shrugs. “She took me to a lake one weekend and we went swimming. I got tired, so she left me on the shore to go swim some more. I …”

Lena stops to take a deep breath, steadying the rattling of her shaking rib cage. She doesn’t even know why she’s even telling Kara all of this, but she _wants_ to. She wants someone else to know, to share the weight.

So she tells her.

“I didn’t know, I didn’t realize what I was seeing. But I did,” Lena explains. “She started to disappear under the water. I just … stood there. I did _nothing_. I watched her die.”

“Woah, woah, Lena,” Kara practically envelops Lena with her entire body. She’s surrounded by warmth and firm muscle and a bit of hair tickling her nose. “You were _four_. You couldn’t have saved her.”

“I … I could’ve run to her, I could’ve cried for help,” Lena’s lips tremble as a single tear falls. “But I did _nothing_. What kind of child does nothing? … And for that, I’ve always known, even if I’m not truly one of them, I _deserve_ to be a Luthor.”

The tears flow freely now.

“Lena,” Kara soothes. “Lena’s, it’s not your fault. You couldn’t have saved your mother. No matter what you _could’ve_ done, there’s no guarantee it would’ve changed anything. _It’s not your fault_.”

For a split second, Kara’s voice is so earnest and genuine Lena actually starts to believe it. She allows herself a moment of weakness to cocoon in Kara Danvers’ hopeful world.

But she can’t stay too long. That would be incredibly dangerous.

“When did this turn to be about me?” Lena lets out a self-deprecating chuckle, pulling away slightly. “I thought this was your terrible night.”

“I don’t mind sharing,” Kara smiles down at her softly.

“How considerate,” Lena sniffles. “I’m alright now, Kara, you can let go.” She pats on Kara’s back.

“Oh, right! Sorry,” Kara quickly untangles herself, and Lena can’t help but miss her warmth as the cool, distant air takes her place.

“I suppose I should warn you now,” Lena says, a rueful tone to her words. “I think I might be cursed.”

“Cursed?” Kara frowns.

She sucks on her bottom lip. She really should stop talking, but there’s something compelling about this early morning hour that she can’t help but spill all her secrets to a pair of earnest blue eyes that feel like safety personified.

“Yes,” Lena inhales sharply. “Everyone … everyone always leaves. I’ve learned not to take it personally anymore. It’s just how it is.”

“Is this about your ex?” Kara frowns, eyes flickering all over Lena’s face. “Sam?”

“Sam. My mother — _not_ Lillian,” Lena lists, “Mercy. Lex, even. He’s not really good at staying around when you need him.”

“Who’s Mercy?” Kara’s brow is crinkled.

“Ah,” Lena says. “Mercy Graves. She was Lex’s first and last long-time girlfriend. They dated for several years; Lex was at his best when he was with her.”

“She must’ve been important to him,” Kara realizes. “And it sounds like she was important to you too …?”

“Yes,” Lena admits. “As you know — firsthand, now — Lillian is very critical of me. She never took the time to, you know, teach the life stuff. But Mercy … she took me under her wing.”

“She sounds great,” Kara agrees, voice soft as to not be disruptive.

“She was, kind of. She taught me about fashion, manners, networking,” Lena says. “Even how to stand up for myself. We grew very close. She was _almost_ like a big sister to me.”

“What happened with you two?” Kara asks.

“She left,” Lena sighs. “Never even said goodbye.”

“That must have hurt you,” Kara frowns.

“It did,” Lena states. “But I can’t blame her for it. Truthfully, the fault lies with Lex. He was too busy trying to prove himself different from Lionel — always drunk or high, out clubbing every night — that he pushed her away. Then his coke habit got worse, and Mercy wouldn’t stand for it. So she left.”

“I’m so sorry, Lena,” Kara says.

“It’s alright,” Lena sets her jaw. “It just reinforced what I always suspected: I’m better off alone.”

“Do you really believe that?” Kara challenges. “Deep down?”

“I do.”

It’s a simple trick of the ears, some city noise that her brain twists and manipulates, but for a split second Lena would swear she just heard a soft “I don’t.”

“It’s the same for Lex,” Lena offers, pushing her thoughts forward. Best not to dwell on delusions. “Luthors are just better off on their own.”

“I thought things were getting better between you two?” Kara asks.

“It’s … better,” Lena smiles sadly off into the distance. “But loving Lex is a bit like loving a thunderstorm; you don’t know where it’s going, what damage it’ll do in its wake, or how long it’ll stay. It’s not yours to keep.”

“Love can’t really be kept though,” Kara says. “It can only be given.”

“To _give_ something is to _lose_ something,” Lena retorts.

“No, it’s not,” Kara says, and Lena can practically feel her frowning. “It’s … to trust, to trust that you’ll get it back.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Lena sucks her teeth. She doesn’t love Kara’s choice of words. “Trust has never been my most advanced skill.”

“Practice makes perfect, you know,” Kara’s voice tilts up lightly at the end, a friendliness to offset the intensity of the sentiment underneath.

“We should probably try to get some sleep,” Lena sniffles. “It’s past five. Think you’ll be alright this time?”

“Yeah, I’m good to go,” Kara nods. “I’ll just, uh, shift back to my side.”

Lena sucks on her lips to prevent any regrettable requests from leaving her mouth.

“Goodnight Lena,” Kara calls, readjusted back onto the far side of the massive bed.

“Goodnight, Kara,” Lena echoes.

A few moments of silence pass as the heaviness in the air dissipates.

“And Kara?” Lena calls out, protected in the darkness of the room. “You should talk about your parents more. You look … happy when you do.”

Kara’s response comes in the form of a slightly-too-fake-sounding snore. But she’ll get away with it, for now.

Lena shakes her head slightly and allows her eyelids to droop closed once more. She falls asleep feeling a bit like she’s about to stumble over the edge into something dangerous.

But she doesn’t care.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's hoping this was a helpful distraction for anyone in need of one. Next chapter is realization #2 …


	13. a golden shield

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Under the protection of a golden shield, Lena has a shattering realization.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised . . .
> 
> Another big thank-you to IcarusAndHerSun for the beta read.

* * *

The night of the fundraiser comes before Kara can even really process it. 

Basketball is busier than ever, with only a few weeks left of the regular season, and the Comets are boasting quite the impressive record. And Kara intends to keep it that way. If she’s not in class or in Lena’s bed, she’s in the gym — shooting, running footwork drills, everything. Occasionally, she’ll successfully rope Mike (who couldn’t care less about being a _student_ -athlete) or Lucy (who’s just as obsessive as she is) into joining her.

It’s also a welcome distraction from a certain green-eyed goddess that’s now permanently residing in Kara’s mind, and all the stupid things Kara wants to confess to her. Of the things Kara already practically confessed to her.

She pours herself into basketball even more. She can always shut her feelings down when on the court.

But the status of her feelings when _off_ the court is quickly becoming a different story.

There’s an undeniable, snowballing mass of warmth and emotions accumulating inside her, and she has no idea how to handle it. She knows what she _should_ do, but she’s not going to do that. 

Besides, Lena needs her for the fundraiser. She’s not going to back out when Lena needs her.

Kara takes a few deep breaths to brace her for the night. She’s nervous for all the pomp and circumstance, but it’s just like a game — get dressed, go out, do your best — and she’s always been great at that.

She can do this.

There’s a full itinerary. Fancy dinner with Lena, head to the tailors to pick up the suit Lena had made for her, then to the gala to make Lena’s night as pleasant as possible — despite being surrounded by her mother and the other asshole self-appointed aristocrats that’ll be there.

Easy. She can do this.

“And where the hell are you going?” Alex frowns, looking Kara up and down. She’s in pants and a sweater that are definitely a bit too formal for going out, and it’s a dead give-away. 

Alex’s eyes narrow at her. “Aren’t we going to Al’s tonight?”

“I’m going out,” Kara says. “I have a thing.”

“What thing?” Alex’s eyes narrow further. Kara would sell her soul to be invisible right now.

“ … Lena needed a plus-one for this party thing,” Kara mumbles.

Alex’s eyebrows fly upwards. “Oh, so you’re going on a date? With Lena Luthor? The fuck buddy who you have feelings for.”

Kara winces. “Can you not … say it like that?”

“Say it like what?” Alex challenges.

“Like it’s a bad thing,” Kara says. “Like it’s all going to blow up in my face.”

“Oh, but it is,” Alex insists. “You caught feelings for someone you explicitly _chose_ because you wouldn’t catch feelings. And now you’re continually putting yourself into a situation where you’re just going to get hurt. You said you were going to tell her soon!”

Kara meets Alex with steely silence. That’s _not_ how this is going to go.

“The longer this goes on, the worse it’s going to be,” Alex says. “You need to tell her, Kara, or break things off.”

“I’m not going to do either of those things,” Kara states. “I realized, it doesn’t matter that I have feelings for Lena—”

“—yes, it does—”

“—because we’re also friends—”

“—with benefits, and fuck, wow, _feelings_ now too, apparently—”

“—and she doesn’t need to know I have feelings for her,” Kara finishes. “I’m going to stick with my original plan and break things off at the end of the semester.”

Alex gives her a look that would send mere mortals straight to the grave. “So you’re not even going to tell her how you feel?”

“Nope,” Kara confirms.

“But you’re still going to keep sleeping with her?”

“Yep.”

“And you don’t see anything wrong with that plan?” Alex frowns.

“Alex, it’ll be fine,” Kara assures.

Alex lets out a very long sigh. “Be careful, Kara. This is a recipe for disaster.”

Kara almost makes it out of the door.

“Kara?” Alex calls, and Kara begrudgingly turns around to face her sister. Gone is the stress and frustration from Alex’s face, replaced by resigned wariness.

“What, Alex?” Kara frowns.

“If you’re scared to tell her, you know that’s okay?” Alex says with earnest eyes. “You’re allowed to feel things.”

“I … I am … a little scared,” Kara admits, crossing her arms. “I don’t want to lose her, Alex.”

Alex walks closer. “I’m sorry if I’ve been pushy about it; I’ll stop. I’m just worried you’re going to get hurt.”

“It’s okay,” Kara says. “I know you kind of have a point.”

“It’s just …” Alex trails off. “Have you considered telling her for _your_ benefit? It can’t feel good pretending and shoving your feelings aside all the time.”

“I’m fine,” Kara’s voice is firm at first, but then grows drastically softer upon her next words. “What if she doesn’t feel the same way?”

“Then she doesn’t deserve you, and we’ll get through it together,” Alex gives her a protective, loving smile, then nods her head at the door. “Now go, have fun with your hot date.”

“It’s not a date!” Kara protests, but her eyes spill sisterly love back at Alex.

“Go, Kara.”

She does just that; the door closes behind her with a firm click under her palm, and that’s the only solid thing she feels right now.

With Alex's words deeply unsettled in her gut, Kara sighs and squares her shoulders. She’s just gotta make it through tonight, and then she can figure out what she wants to do about Lena and her secret.

Oh, boy.

* * *

Lena takes them both out for dinner before the gala — the first of many gifts to repay Kara for sacrificing her evening. Much to Lena’s surprise though, Kara’s usual appetite seems to have deserted her, and for once, Lena’s on pace to finish her food before Kara.

It’s a phenomena she once considered impossible.

“Are you alright?” Lena fixes her with a concerned look. “You’ve hardly touched your meal.”

“Oh, Alex and I got into a bit of a fight,” Kara brushes her off, poking her fork in her mashed potatoes. “It’s nothing.”

Lena feels an icy hand grip her heart. “Is it about tonight?” _Is it about us?_

Kara jumps a little in her chair. “Oh, no, not at all! It’s basketball stuff.”

“Oh,” Lena sighs, warming back up. “Well I’m happy to listen if you need to vent …”

“Nah, it’s okay,” Kara smiles. “Thank you though. I’m already feeling better, actually.” She takes a big bite of steak for emphasis.

“Alright,” Lena accepts her words warily. “Are you nervous about tonight?”

Kara gives her an appraising look. “Are you?”

“A little,” Lena admits, with a nod of her head. “These events always spike my anxiety levels. It’s a political and social minefield, let alone the additional pressure of my mother’s expectations …”

“Don’t focus on her. I’m nervous too, but I have you, and you have me,” Kara says with a soft smile. “We’ll get through it together.”

Lena smiles, exposing white teeth between red lips. She holds out her wine glass towards Kara. 

“Together it is.”

After the meal, they head for the tailor shop where Lena had Kara’s suit commissioned. (Lena thought it best to have Kara eat _before_ getting covered in thousands of dollars of clothes.) There’s also a stylist waiting there to do their hair and makeup first. Lena told Kara to keep her hair down, to rest in golden waves down her shoulders, but Lena’s own hair is to be styled up into an ornate braided pattern. The blonde has no idea what to expect of the clothes though, Lena had chosen everything from the style to fabric to color — she’d wanted to design it herself, as yet another thank-you for the blonde’s service.

And Lena’s made Kara a _damn good_ suit.

“How do I look?” Kara grins at Lena, holding her arms out.

All the air rushes out of Lena’s lungs.

Lena _knows_ fashion — thanks to the guidance of Mercy — but she’s truly outdone herself this time. Kara stands before her, clad in a brilliant dark-blue suit. The pants, the suit coat, and the tie are all the same rich shade of dark-blue. The button-up provides a bit of contrast; Lena elected for a stunning maroon color instead. The tailor also had taken the liberty of draping a matching silk scarf over Kara’s shoulders, handsome red against beautiful blue. 

Gold accents have been incorporated everywhere; gold suit buttons, gold belt buckle, gold watch, gold studs in Kara’s ears. It’s all for Kara; to match with the golden crest necklace lying proud over her tie. Everything has been tailored to fit the woman perfectly, showcasing her prime physique, and incidentally making Lena feel very weak in the knees.

“You look …” Lena trails off, lips agape. Her words have truly deserted her.

“Good, right?” Kara beamed, her chest puffing out with pride. 

“More than good. Almost perfect,” Lena murmurs, running a delicate finger over the fabric of Kara’s shoulder. “Though there’s one last thing …”

“What?” Kara asks, shoulders dropping. “Is it my necklace?”

“No,” Lena quickly assures, catching the defensive hand that’s already halfway up to her chest. “No, Kara, I would never make you take that off.”

“Oh,” Kara’s entire body relaxes, the arm dropping back down. “Thank you.”

“What you’re missing is a cape,” Lena explains. “You, Kara Danvers, are my hero once again tonight, and you deserve to look the part.”

Kara frowns. “A cape?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Lena muses. “This is your ‘cape’.” She gestures behind her, where the tailor is now holding the final piece. He unfolds it with a dramatic whoosh. It’s a long woolen coat, designed to be worn with the suit, in the same rich maroon as the other pieces.

“Woah,” Kara’s eyebrows shoot up, pulling the corners of her mouth up along too.

“Try it on,” Lena says softly. Kara holds her arms out, and the tailor slips it onto her.

“Miss Luthor,” the tailor steps back, allowing Lena the final step. She wraps each lapel between her clammy hands and tugs the coat down snugly into place.

Oh, Lena is _good_.

“Take a look,” she murmurs, stepping to the side to allow Kara to turn around and see for herself.

As far as Lena’s concerned, the blonde looks downright heroic. As she should.

“Wow, Lena, this is … perfect,” Kara’s eyes shine in the mirror. “… thank you.”

“It’s nothing, Kara,” Lena blushes, averting her eyes to the short carpet.

“No,” Kara shakes her head, grabbing Lena’s hands, staring deep into her soul. “No, you made this for me. It’s my two favorite colors. You even got my necklace to work with it. It’s … everything.”

“I … I’m glad you like it,” Lena gulps.

“Miss Luthor?” the tailor coughs, saving her from herself. “Your gown is ready for you.”

“Yes, right,” Lena nods, coming back to her senses. “Thank you, Frank.“

Her gown for the night is long but cut to be off-the-shoulder, exposing a fair expanse of her neck and collarbone, amongst other assets. It's snug but not restrictive. Lillian will certainly hate it, but Lena looks good — and more importantly — feels good in it. And she might’ve had it made to match the dark blue as Kara’s suit perfectly.

She’s like to say it was all to further Lillian’s ire, but that wouldn’t exactly be true. Lena’s actually a little excited to show up with Kara as her plus-one. Though Lena would never tell the blonde, for fear of her ego never fitting inside a room again, Kara is actually quite an incredible person. Plus they work well with each other; there’s a synergy between them. And Lena just wants their outfits to represent that.

She looks in the mirror for a second too long and a moment of doubt creeps in; hopefully, it’s not too much. Hopefully, Kara likes it. In her absentmindedness, she leaves behind the diamond necklace perched in velvet off to the side.

Lena walks out of the changing room with her usual elegant air, but it’s heightened by her tall heels for the night. They’re tall enough to put her right at Kara’s height, her up-do helping her bridge the gap.

Kara’s jaw actually drops open when Lena turns the corner. Lena could swear she actually hears all the air leave Kara’s lungs. Or maybe it’s the air escaping her own tensed ribcage?

“What do you think?”

“You look … _gorgeous_.” Kara’s looking at her like she’s the sun in the sky, and Lena’s never felt her soul laid so bare.

“Thank you, Kara.” Lena tucks her chin down humbly, fiddling with one of her ornate diamond earrings.

“I mean … Lena …” Kara trails off. “Wow … did you design that too?”

“I chose it, but no, it’s designer,” Lena explains. “Frank was kind enough to make a few alterations though.”

“Frank, you’re an amazing tailor,” Kara informs him.

Frank returns an amused smile. Everyone Lena’s met seems to find Kara’s earnestness utterly charming, and Frank is no different.

“Anything else, Miss Luthor?” Frank asks, hands clasped patiently in front of him.

“No,” Lena smiles politely. “Thank you, Frank, that’ll be all.”

Kara turns back to Lena, sucking on her lips while her eyes dart down Lena’s body again.

“Take a photo, Danvers, it’ll last longer,” Lena teases. She tosses on her white wool coat next, newly made in a similar style to the one she had ordered for Kara.

“Wow,” Kara scoffs. “I’m offended you think I’d ever forget _this_.” Kara gestures up and down Lena’s silhouette on the last word.

Lena blushes violently, praying it's hidden well enough by her makeup.

“Memory requires brain cells,” Lena deflects.

“Yeah. You know, we match,” Kara grins, eyes raking over Lena yet again. Lena half-wonders if Kara’s expecting her to disappear or something.

“So we do,” Lena smiles coyly. “I thought Lillian would appreciate the coordination.”

The invocation of her mother’s name sends a chill of dread down Lena’s spine. They actually do need to get going. They can only stay at this haven for so long.

“Oh, I’m sure she will. Shall we, Miss Luthor?” Kara jokes, holding an elbow out for her.

Lena wraps a shaky hand around her bicep, taking immediate comfort in the firm muscle underneath. 

“Keep up, Danvers,” Lena smiles.

“Game on,” Kara winks. She backs out of the tailor shop, waving one hand back inside. “Bye, Frank! Thank you!”

There’s a towncar waiting outside to take them to the main event.

Kara pulls the car door open for Lena, gently aiding her descent into the cabin before following after.

“Those heels are killer,” Kara notes, eying her footwear.

“They feel killer,” Lena admits, rubbing idly at the firm leather digging into her ankle.

“I have bandaids, if you need them,” Kara says, hand already reaching inside her inner coat pocket.

“It’s alright,” Lena declines. “I don’t have any blisters yet, these shoes are just steep.”

“I can always give you a massage later,” Kara offers. She then squirms in her seat and quickly states, “If you want that is!”

“I … I might take you up on that,” Lena exhales. Even just the _thought_ of Kara touching her right now is enough to make Lena feel entirely electrified.

Kara nods in agreement.

A hushed silence falls over the car. Both of the passengers turn to look away from each other, the windows providing an excellent deflection for their attention. Though Lena doesn’t truly see anything they pass as she begins to pull on her fingers. Out of curiosity, she looks over towards Kara to see if the blonde looks as nervous as Lena feels, only to see Kara making cocky faces at the darkened glass.

“Are you admiring your reflection?” Lena teases.

“Hey I’m just appreciating your handiwork,” Kara objects playfully. “I look good; I’ve got that drip. You know your stuff.”

“You and your colloquialisms. And that I do,” Lena says proudly. The glint of Kara’s necklace catches her eye once more. It really is a brilliant, fresh gold color — for an old family heirloom, Kara’s taken immaculate care of it (in stark contrast to most of her other possessions).

Even though Kara’s head is turned once more, her hand flickers up to touch the necklace, as if she can feel Lena’s gaze on it.

A horrible realization sets in.

“Oh, _shit_ ,” Lena hisses, her hand flying up to her bare collarbone. “I forgot my diamonds.”

“You don’t need them; you look beautiful,” Kara offers. Her earnest eyes make Lena weak in the knees.

“Thank you, Kara,” Lena says, “But if I so much as have a hair out of place, Lillian will notice.”

Lena’s mind zooms in overdrive as she tries to think of a solution. She could call Jack to bring one — no, he’s out with his parents. What about Andrea? No, she’s sick. Lena could ask the driver to re-route to a store, but they’re already a bit too fashionably late as it is …

“I have an idea,” Kara says with firm resolution, quickly adjusting sideways in her seat. 

Kara’s hands fly up to her neck, toying with something at the back of her neck. Before Lena realizes what is happening, Kara’s eyes are baring deep into her soul and her hands are behind Lena’s neck, a slim chain settling around her neck.

The metal feels white-hot against her skin

Lena’s hand flies up to touch it, green eyes still riveted on blue. She swallows roughly.

 _It’s Kara’s necklace_.

“Will that work?” Kara asks softly.

 _The necklace she_ never _takes off._

Every single molecule of air in the towncar is gone. 

Lena looks at her reflection in the pull-down mirror behind the driver’s seat. Sure enough, a golden crest — emblazoned with a ‘S’ — hangs around her neck. The gold catches in the light, glinting and shining as if it was a piece of the very sun itself. It doesn’t match with any of Lena’s silver accessories, but she couldn’t give a singular shit.

“Kara,” Lena chokes out. “Yes, it’s … perfect.”

She has no words to describe the comfort it brings, her reverence of the trust it signifies. She knows the necklace is indescribably precious to Kara. _She’s never seen it off of her._

It’s a calming, golden shield over her anxious heart.

Lena doesn’t know what else to say. She has no words. So she thanks Kara with a kiss, deep and slow and long, only pulling away to take a new breath. Lena’s eyes aren’t wet as she pulls away — they _aren’t_.

There’s a bit of red lipstick by the corner of Kara’s smiling mouth.

It hits Lena like the sunrise after weeks of forlorn rain: _Kara Danvers, I could fall in love with you_.

_Oh._

Oh, no.

Lena stops breathing.

No, no, no, no … this can’t be happening. This is a mistake. This is a terrible decision. This is … hopelessly and incredibly out of her control.

She has _feelings_ for Kara.

“Are you okay?” Kara’s voice breaks her daze.

“Yes,” Lena croaks, swallowing roughly and forcing her lungs to contract again.

She needs to regain control. She can concern herself with her misplaced affections later; she needs to focus on the task at hand — the fundraiser — and get through it. 

“You have lipstick on your face now. Sorry,” Lena says.

Kara brings a hand to swipe at the corner of her mouth. “Good?” she asks.

“Good,” Lena confirms with a glance.

World-broken after her realization, Lena is silent the rest of the drive to the venue. One problem at a time, _one_ problem at a time. Kara seems content in the silence.

One problem at a time.

Once the car enters the gala’s vehicle queue, the main plight of the evening is now impending down on them with the inevitability of death. It only serves to add to the anxious cataclysm afflicting Lena.

She has feelings for Kara Danvers. She’s about to have to deal with her mother, in public, for a few hours. She has feelings for Kara Danvers, who’s about to formally meet her mother.

Fucking hell.

“You look nervous,” Kara observes. “Like we’re about to jump into a pit of snakes or something.”

“We might as well be,” Lena gulps. “Kara, I’ve made a rather egregious mistake. I’m afraid I’ve deluded you, and myself, regarding the circumstances by which we’ll be greeted tonight. Lillian is not a pleasant person to deal with and—”

“—Lena, it’s fine,” Kara gives her a reassuring smile. “I’m here and I want to be here.”

“I…” Lena fumbles to find the words. “I mean, Kara, there’s got to be a hundred other places you could be tonight. Yet you'd be willing to face this? Voluntarily?”

“Of course,” Kara nods. “You asked me to.”

Because Lena _asked her to_. It can’t really be that simple? That easy?

Kara smiles, and her fear melts away. Apparently, it is that easy.

“Well …” Lena trails off, unsure of what she even wants to say. “… Alright, then. You seem at peace with your fate.”

“I’ve embraced it fully. Though, is there anything in particular I should know about? Any old rich people rituals?” Kara asks in good-humor.

“Not particularly,” Lena says, too nervous to take the window for a scathing joke at the expense of the bourgeoisie. “Though you should probably follow my lead once we’re inside.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t leave your side.” 

Lena melts right into the expensive Italian leather seats.

* * *

They walk into the extravagant banquet hall together. Lena holds onto Kara’s arm, rubbing soothing circles with her thumb. Kara’s grateful for the little reminder of Lena’s presence; there’s a lot to take in all at once. The expansive lobby is full of people in suits and gowns, decorated in their finest pearls and diamonds, gingerly shaking hands as they hold themselves in high regard.

The venue matches the extravagance to the inch. It’s absolutely massive, made of expensive marble, with sweeping curtains falling along the walls, framing the many windows. Attendants and staff swirl around the perimeter; some of the waiters have already caught Kara’s eye, carrying trays of bacon-wrapped food. The decor is minimalistic yet expensive, and very, very far out of her depth.

It’s hard to imagine Kara started off today covered in sweat and gym floor grime, and now she’s ending it here. It feels like a different world. 

At first, Kara's enchanted by the excitement and novelty of it. But it's when she sees Lena fit right into it, a crow amongst the gallows, that Kara’s heart starts to _ache_. Lena — a twenty-year old college kid — wears this strange, hostile environment like a glove. It’s seamless. But it’s wrong.

They shouldn’t be here; Lena shouldn’t have to be doing this. 

For fucks sake, she’s just a kid like Kara, and she should get to _be_ one. They should be playing drinking games at Al’s, or eating way too much sugar in a booth at Bob’s Diner, or wearing pajamas at a movie night over in Kara's place. But instead they’re here, Lena carefully navigating the web of nocuous capitalist politics and cold familial obligations like it’s what she’s made for. But she’s not made for it; she was forced into it by circumstance, and for a moment, Kara mourns for Lena’s youth.

It makes Kara realize; Lena’s loss is greater than she knows. But despite all of that, Lena is still so _good_.

The first thing they do is get their coats checked. Kara grabs the paper ticket with clammy hands, knowing that they’re getting one step closer to the inevitable. Not wanting Lena to see the visible manifestation of her nerves, Kara shoves her shaking hands into her pockets. Lena’s already anxious enough for the both of them; Kara needs to be her rock tonight.

“The main hall is up those stairs,” Lena informs Kara, nodding the direction of the grand half-height staircase in the center of the room. “We’ll stand somewhere in the back of the room. All the donors were invited for dinner earlier, but I figured neither you nor I would enjoy sitting through that, so the only mandatory event left is my mother’s speech about the foundation at nine.”

Kara breathes a small sigh of relief. She didn’t even think about having to sit through a meal as a possibility.

“I’ll have to leave you to stand by my mother’s side during her speech, but I expect the dessert bar will be able to hold your attention in the meanwhile,” Lena continues. “After the speech, I’ll come find you. We’ll both have to speak with my mother before we can leave.”

Kara nods.

It all goes exactly as Lena describes. The food is delicious, but Kara abstains from any of the alcohol. She knows Lena can’t drink at the function, and it seems almost cruel to partake without her, no matter how much Kara wishes for the relief of a tipsy buzz. Around 8:50, Lena parts from her side.

Kara zones out during Lillian’s speech, much more interested in admiring Lena from a far. 

She really does look otherworldly tonight. The stage lighting practically makes her skin glow, and Kara can see how vibrantly rich the blue of her dress is. Lena is stunning as always, but what makes Kara’s entire body throb in pride is her own necklace in full view, hanging like a shield over Lena’s heart.

Lillian’s speech drags on and on; Kara’s bladder continues to fill up from an endless supply of raspberry lemonades, and she starts to shift uncomfortably from one leg to the next. It doesn’t sound like Lillian will finish anytime soon either. Eventually, Kara sees a window of escape, and ducks out to beeline for the bathroom.

She’s just finished washing her hands when another woman comes crashing into the bathroom in huff, dramatically kicking her heels off in one of the plush chairs by the makeup vanity.

“I swear,” the woman seethes, rubbing her ankle. “It’s impossible to find a competent assistant nowadays.”

The woman has blonde hair, cropped below mid-neck, and appears to be middle-aged, but aging in a very graceful way. She’s dressed in a sharp-looking black dress, with jewelry that's probably more expensive than Kara’s entire wardrobe put together. Kara quietly watches in the mirror as the woman moves to inspect her ankle; even though she’s a few feet behind Kara, there’s a distinctly visible and angry, bright red patch of flesh running down her Achilles tendon.

That has to hurt.

Never one to walk away when there’s something she can do, Kara turns and approaches the woman.

“Bandaid?” Kara offers, holding out a small paper slip. She originally had brought them for Lena, if she needed them, but she has enough to spare a few for someone else in need. 

The woman eyes her with a mixture of scandalization and intrigue, lips pursed. Kara can’t help but be intimidated under her gaze; this is a woman who _commands_ a room. One look from her and Kara feels as if she’s somehow failed at something important already.

“They’re special for blisters,” Kara adds. She took them from her stash in the locker room — these were a _must_ when breaking in new basketball shoes during preseason. They’re practically magic.

“I hope you’re not expecting a tip,” the woman grimaces. “I haven’t carried cash on me once this decade.”

“Oh, no, I’m a guest too,” Kara clarifies. “Just offering some help. Those blisters look painful.”

The woman gives her a thoughtful look, starting at Kara’s toes and working her way up. Under such careful scrutiny, Kara becomes hyper-aware that everything about this woman is immaculate. Not in Lena’s ‘extreme attention to detail’ way, but in an ‘effortlessly flawless’ way that only comes with confidence and collected power.

“Well aren’t you … heroic.” Her eyes rake over Kara again from head to toe. “Hmph. You have a good eye for fashion. Better than half the bumbling idiots here.”

“Oh, I can’t take credit for—” Kara breaks off into a chuckle, gesturing down at herself. Her mind goes blank. Who is this woman, and why does she make Kara feel like a wobbly, terrified deer?

“Who are you?” the woman asks, eyes narrowed.

“Kara Danvers, ma’am,” Kara bows her head in compelled respect.

“Well, thank you, Kira,” the woman says, swiftly snatching the bandaid from Kara’s fingers. “And you may call me Ms. Grant. Hold this; the floor in here is disgusting.”

“Oh, it’s Kar--” The woman promptly shoves her bag into Kara’s hands, effectively muting her.

The woman quickly slides off her other heel, slaps the bandaids on, and is back in her shoes before Kara can blink. 

“You’d make a half-decent assistant,” she muses, hand now up in the air beside her head. “Strong shoulders. What is it you do?”

“I’m a, uh, student,” Kara rambles. “I play basketball for NCU.”

"A student?” Ms. Grant’s eyebrows raise. “How quaint. And do you make a habit of carrying medical supplies around in your formal wear?””

“Oh, no, I just brought them for my …” Kara stumbles over her words trying to think of how to describe Lena. What even are they anymore? The hopeless fixation of her affection? “My, uh, friend.”

“Your ‘uh, friend’?” she snickers. “How … mildly intriguing.”

“She’s the one that chose this suit,” Kara blurts out, running her palms down the front of her coat. “I’m her plus-one tonight; I’ve actually never been to one of these parties before.”

“Hmm, yes, that I’ve already determined,” the woman crosses her arms, “Thought I can’t help but wonder why it is _you’re_ here. It’s not exactly a basketball field.”

“Oh, it’s a ‘court’ actually, but—” Kara falters as Ms. Grant sends her a scathing look. “Right, uh, I’m just here for my friend.”

“And who, pray tell, might this little friend be?” Ms. Grant raises an eyebrow. “And why have you gone all doe-eyed on me?”

“Uh, her name’s Lena,” Kara says, unsure if she could give more detail, but Ms. Grant’s eyes light up in recognition anyways.

“The young Luthor …” she trails off, giving Kara a final once-over. “Hm. Good for her. I wasn’t aware she had a new girlfriend.”

“Oh, we’re just friends,” Kara quickly assures, not wanting to give Ms. Grant the wrong idea. Lena is _not_ her girlfriend and it’s very unlikely she will _ever_ want to be. 

Not that Kara thinks about that a lot. Or ever. Because armed with the understanding she has actual feelings for Lena, that would be — as Alex put it — a ‘recipe for disaster’.

“ _Just_ friends,” Kara insists, “We’re not — it’s complicated.”

“ _Life_ is complicated, Kira,” Ms. Grant rolls her eyes. “Don’t delude yourself into thinking it’s something exclusive to you and your attempts to find human connection. It’s like blaming the sun for being bright.”

“Uh, Ms. Grant, what, uh—” Whatever half-composed question is about to fall from Kara’s mouth is cut off by the bathroom door opening.

“There you are!” Lena’s voice exclaims behind Kara.

“Lena!” Kara turns around to greet her, her usual grin on her face. “Hey!”

Kara holds out an arm, and Lena almost fully slides her waist to it, until she catches a glimpse of Kara’s conversation partner.

“Ms. Grant!” Lena’s eyebrows raise in surprise, halting her movement. She pulls back from Kara’s touch, and the blonde respectfully drops her hand back down.

“Hello, Miss Luthor,” Ms. Grant gives her a coy smile, like she now knows a delicious secret.

“Kara, this is Cat Grant,” Lena introduces, gesturing to the woman. “She’s the founder and CEO of Catco Worldwide Media.”

“Oh!” Kara exclaims with a start, realizing she just offered her lowly locker-room bandaids to one of the largest media moguls in the country. “Oh, it’s _very nice_ to meet you, Ms. Grant.”

Cat smirks at Kara, satisfied with the dramatic reveal. “Yes, I imagine it is.” 

She then turns to Lena and asks, “And how have you been, Miss Luthor?”

Lena bows her head. “Very well, thank you.”

Cat’s eye catches the glint of gold over Lena’s collarbone, and her eyes widen an almost-imperceptible fraction. 

But Kara notices. And her heart rate skyrockets.

“That’s a lovely necklace,” Cat taps at her chin, staring at the necklace in question. “I once had a brief but amorous dalliance with a man who wore the same exact one.” 

There’s only one other person on the planet with the same necklace, and both Kara and Lena know who it is.

“You know Kal?!” Kara wrinkles her nose. Did Cat Grant _date_ her cousin …? They were like ten, fifteen years apart?

“Clark Kent?” Lena translates smoothly. “Kara is his cousin, actually.”

“Is she now?” Kara once again finds herself under the heat of Cat’s stare. The older woman has her lips pursed out in thought, her eyes boring right through Kara’s, to her soul. “Fascinating.”

Kara can feel the sweats set in.

“This necklace is Kara’s,” Lena explains, one of her hands clasped protectively over her chest, and by extension, the golden crest.

“Of course,” Cat tilts her head. She looks between Kara and Lena, as if drawing a web of invisible lines between them. “… Well, it’s been a pleasure, but I am 'the Queen of All Media' and you don’t get a throne by just standing around, making idle chit-chat. Goodbye, ladies.”

Cat then plucks her bag from Kara’s hands, who didn’t even realize she was still holding it, and makes straight for the door out of the bathroom.

“Oh, and Kara?” Cat calls back over her shoulder, door half-way open. “Good luck with your … basketball. I imagine you have quite the future there.”

“Because of Clark, right?” Kara asks, deflating a little in preparation for the confirmation she knows is about to come.

“No.” Cat smirks, then disappears.

* * *

“What was that all about?” Lena frowns at Kara, who apparently managed to befriend _the_ Cat Grant in a bathroom, of all places. Was there anyone on this planet immune to the charm of Kara Danvers?

“I have no idea,” Kara insists. “I just offered her a bandaid, since she had blisters on her feet—”

“—Wait, did you just give Cat Grant my bandaids?” Lena gives Kara an incredulous look.

“ _Your_ bandaids?” Kara frowns. “I thought you didn’t want them?”

“I did not say that!” Lena replies, miffed at the idea of Kara giving away something the blonde had already promised to her. “I explicitly remember saying ‘not _yet’.”_

“Don’t worry, Luthor, I still have plenty,” Kara gives her a playful smile and she sets a hand on Lena’s waist. “So, we’re in a bathroom … we look hot … I was thinking…”

Kara starts to pull Lena closer, and it doesn’t take an expert to recognize the thirsty look in Kara’s eye. Lena knows if she takes even so much as a single step towards her date, she will surely not leave this bathroom for the next half-hour or so, minimum.

Unfortunately, that’s exactly opposite of what they need to do.

“No,” Lena gives Kara a look, setting a stiff hand over Kara’s collarbone. “Behave.” She leans a little extra into her powerbitch voice (now knowing the compulsive effect it has).

Kara reacts, predictably, exactly how Lena expects. The blonde goes slack under Lena’s palm and her face flushes.

Lena knows it won’t last long.

“We need to go meet with my mother,” Lena informs her.

“Oh,” Kara grimaces, and Lena can actually see Kara’s desire die out on the floor in front of her.

“Trust me, I would much rather hide in here with you for the duration of the night,” Lena says. “But there are … expectations.”

“Okay,” Kara says, re-inflating herself with a deep inhale. “What do you need me to do?”

“Just stay by my side,” Lena says. “No matter what you say or do, Lillian won’t like you. So just be yourself.”

Against every single brain cell in her head screaming at her not to say it, Lena adds, “I like that Kara Danvers.”

Kara gives her a soft smile that makes Lena melt. “I do too.”

They find Lillian off in one of the side hallways, exchanging words with a woman with a clipboard. Lena forces herself to take a deep breath as they approach; her and Kara aren’t touching and Lena misses the stability.

“Hello Mother,” Lena fakes a toothy smile. The woman with the clipboard makes her exit at the same time, much to Lena’s relief. The less spectators the better.

“Lena,” Lillian greets her daughter, holding Lena by the forearms to press a performative kiss to her cheek. “You really do look so lovely, dear.”

“Really?” Lena quirks an eyebrow. “It’s just us this time, Mother. You don’t want to know what street-corner I bought my dress at?”

“Of course not,” Lillian scoffs playfully, playing the dig off as charming humor. “You look … titillating. In fact, there’s a young man who would certainly appreciate it. I’d like you to meet with him, he’s from—”

“Mother, this is Kara Danvers,” Lena introduces abruptly, desperate to halt whatever _that_ scheme is. 

Lena gestures between her mother and Kara, who’s now come to stand by Lena’s side; Kara takes the cue to offer out her hand. “She’s a friend from school.”

 _Friend_. The word puts an odd, bitter taste in Lena's mouth. But she can’t think about that right now; there are more urgent forces in motion.

“Danvers?” Lillian frowns slightly as she shakes Kara’s hand.

“Nice to meet you again,” Kara says without thinking, a fake, deadly smile across her face.

 _‘Again’, Kara?!_ Lena’s heart skips a beat at Kara’s admission. As far as her mother knows, Kara Danvers and Lillian Luthor have never so much as shared air before tonight, let alone been only feet away from each other.

“Again?” Lillian arches a brow. Despite her disdain for her mother, the flawless brow arch is the one good thing she imparted to Lena. “I don’t believe we’ve met before.”

“No, we haven’t, I’m sorry,” Kara corrects, letting out a flustered chuckle. “I would remember that.”

“Hmph,” Lillian huffs. “I can’t recall anyone named Danvers. What is it your parents do?”

Lena’s hand darts out to wrap around Kara’s bicep, but she’s not quite quick enough to catch the blonde’s flinch.

“I met Kara through Lex,” Lena volunteers, trying to pivot the conversation into more comfortable territory. She gives Kara’s arm a reassuring squeeze. “She’s cousins with Clark Kent.”

“Ah, Lex’s friend,” Lillian realizes. “The one who filled his head with such … lofty thoughts.”

“Lofty thoughts?” Kara tilts her head like an inquisitive puppy, but Lena knows there’s a rigidity underlying the innocent gesture.

“Oh, yes, you know,” Lillian waves her hand. “Basketball; the poor man’s pastime. It’s thanks to him that Lex would rather sit and watch a bunch of fools throw a ball around obsessively. It’s an absolute waste of his intellect.”

Kara shifts her weight from one foot to another, leaning back from Lillian in her affront. “I play basketball too, actually, for NCU; but I’ll join the pros this year or next. It’s a pretty great game if you give it a chance.”

Lena’s too focused on watching her mother’s reaction that Kara’s words go in one ear and out the other.

“Another basketball player, _lovely_. At least I don’t have to worry about that with my darling daughter,” Lillian shoots Lena a proud smile. “Fencing; now that’s a true sport. An artform really.”

“Yeah, I heard Lena’s an excellent fencer,” Kara smiles. This one is genuine and toothy, and it’s a beacon of hope to Lena amidst the dreadful, forced conversation.

“Yes, it’s a shame she wasn’t blessed with the same intellect as Lex,” Lillian muses. “Then maybe she could have stayed with it while she finished her degree.”

“Actually, Lena’s one of the smartest people I know,” Kara pipes up. “She’s got a brilliant, impressive mind.”

“Yes, I’m sure it seems that way when you spend all day fraternizing with mesh-clad fools,” Lillian says.

“Well Mother, it’s better than consorting with thieves and criminals who wear designer suits,” Lena defends.

“Wonderful,” Lillian juts out a haughty chin. “Could you please spare me the socialist rhetoric for one night? What if a donor hears you?”

“Oh, does your hearing not go when you sell your soul?” Lena asks sarcastically. “I thought that was why you can’t hear the cries of the millions of patients you’re exploiting for profit?”

“Enough,” Lillian seethes, voice colder than ice. “The nerve of you to come here tonight, dressed like some expensive whore—“

There it is.

“—and tell me how to run the company that’s given you a better life than what you ever should’ve had — it’s an absolute disgrace to the Luthor name.”

Lena opens her mouth to deliver her next scathing, sarcastic response — but she doesn’t get a chance to.

Her hero beats her to it.

In one swift step forward, Kara puts herself between Lillian and Lena, shoulders tall and firm, and gives Lillian a laser-hot glare of judgment.

“The only one disgracing your family is you,” Kara tells her, voice as strong as steel. Her eyes are so bright and fierce, they might as well be small suns. “Lena is one of the most caring, beautiful, intelligent women I’ve ever met. She has fantastic ideas as both a future scientist and businesswoman, and you should listen to her sometime. Whatever issue you have with your daughter is far beyond me to understand, because she makes the ‘Luthor name’ mean something positive, for once. She’s the best of all of you, because she’s a genuinely _good_ person.”

Lillian looks about as stunned as Lena feels.

No one has ever said anything like that to Lillian Luthor, and that fact is quite apparent by the absolute shock on her face.

(Oh, this is, by far, Lena’s favorite Luthor family function ever.)

Lena wants to either giggle or melt into Kara’s arms, she’s not exactly sure. Instead, she settles for intertwining her fingers with Kara’s and pulling her date back to her side, a smug grin on her face.

Lillian still hasn’t reacted, paralyzed in her shock.

“Goodnight, Mother,” Lena tilts her chin down and gives the woman a pointed, amused look. “I’m afraid I’ve spent too much time at the whorehouse recently, I’ve forgotten my manners. Have a safe flight back to Metropolis tomorrow; I hear flying brooms are rather unreliable these days.”

Lena turns around with the image of her mother’s still-agape mouth permanently saved to her memory.

They stroll over to the coat-check like victors returning from battle. Kara triumphantly holds Lena’s coat up for her to slip on; it’s an oddly intimate moment, Lena exposing her back to Kara, the proximity of Kara’s body to hers sending all the hairs on her neck racing up. Lena lingers halfway in the sleeves of her coat for a moment too long.

“Good?” Kara checks as when Lena turns around. Her sweet blue eyes are full of concern. It’s enough to make Lena want to throw herself around Kara’s shoulders and bury her face in her neck.

But she refrains. Lena Luthor doesn’t act like a dumb schoolgirl.

“Yes,” Lena clears her throat. “Thank you.” 

“No problem.” Kara then throws on her own coat afterwards. The long maroon fabric flows over Kara’s shoulders perfectly. Lena can’t help but give her an appreciative once-over from head to toe, whilst biting her bottom lip. 

Oh, Kara is _hot_. She’s always been, but there’s something about that suit and her proud, protective stature that shifts Lena’s every brain cell to one singular thought — jump Kara’s bones.

It would be a terrible idea for them to sleep together tonight, with Lena’s realization that she, for all her diligence, might have _feelings_ for Kara Danvers.

But on the other hand, she’s a dumb, horny bitch, and she’s absolutely going to play right into her worst desires.

Her desires that seem to center around this … well, there really are no words, are there? There’s not a single word in Lena’s entire, extensive vocabulary that can sum up all the parts of Kara Danvers.

That realization makes her fall a little more.

Kara places a hand on the small of Lena’s back as they head for the exit, and if Lena wasn’t wet before, she’s certainly wet now.

On the other hand, the icy air outside seems to jar Kara from her confident strut.

“Oh my god,” Kara brings a hand up to her mouth, eyes going wide and jaw dropping open. “Did I _actually_ just say that to your mom?”

“You did,” Lena chuckles, squeezing Kara’s hand. “I can’t believe it, but yes, yes you did.”

Kara stops abruptly, pulling Lena with her off to the side.

“I’m so sorry, Lena,” Kara turns to give her a mortified look. “She was just saying those horrible, untrue things about you, and I just—”

“It’s quite alright, Kara,” Lena assures. “I enjoyed every minute.”

“You’re not upset?” Kara’s brow crinkles. “But I just …”

“Never, I … I’ve never had someone stand up for me like that,” Lena admits. Her voice sounds so fragile out in the cold, open air, that it threatens to shatter.

“Well, now you have someone who will always stand up for you,” Kara sucks on her lips before they shift into a soft smile. “Ready to go home?”

“Thank you,” Lena says. Her throat feels painfully tight all of a sudden. They’re only holding hands as they walk together to the car, but in the warm cradle of Kara’s presence and the absolute reverence in her voice, Lena feels like she could melt right into her strong arms.

The sex is different that night. It’s leisurely and tender and intimate. Lena would over-analyze the shit out of it, but something stops her. It’s … too peaceful to let her mind run wild.

She just lets herself be in the moment, tomorrow’s consequences be damned.

Apparently, that’s a bad idea.

Lena’s absolutely unraveled underneath Kara as the blonde drives her closer to her orgasm with unparalleled care and dedication. They’ve never had sex quite like this before, and Lena doesn’t know what to make of it. Truthfully, she doesn’t even know what to make of Kara anymore. She’s attentive and earnest and loyal. She makes Lena feel … cared for. Wanted. And to top it all off, Kara just defended her without a second-thought, to the one woman _no one_ she knows (not even Lex) has ever stood up to on Lena’s behalf.

Lena feels the droplet roll down her cheek before she can process it.

Kara freezes. “Lena, shit, are you okay? Am I hurting you?” Panicked blue eyes look down at her.

Lena frowns. She’s not in any pain; the opposite in fact. “No, I’m fine, why—” 

Then it hits her.

She’s crying. Lena Luthor is crying during sex.

Well that’s new.

She stiffens underneath Kara as the blonde cups Lena’s face and swipes her thumb over the wet trail.

“What’s wrong? Do you want me to stop?” Kara asks. She’s still not moving and Lena’s downright annoyed now. She’s painfully close and she needs Kara to just fucking move again, so she tells her just that.

“ _Absolutely_ not, keep going,” Lena squeezes her traitorous eyes shut, pulling Kara in for a kiss. “Please, fuck, I’m fine; I’m close.”

The blonde starts moving again, but her pace lacks its previous haphazard vigor, replaced by tender touches and adoring tinted eyes.

That’s not what Lena fucking needs right now. But much to her own annoyance, it does the trick just fine. Better than fine. 

“Fuck, Lena …” Kara finishes a minute after her, Lena’s bottom lip cradled between her own.

They wash up separately; Lena and her mascara-streaked cheeks go first, but when Kara returns from the bathroom after her turn, it’s clear there’s something on her mind.

Lena doesn’t need more than one guess.

“Are you okay?” Kara asks, eyeing Lena with tender caution. “You know that’s nothing to be embarrassed about, right?”

(Should she be? No, Kara had just said so.)

“I …” Lena double-checks in with herself. She’s certainly not okay, but what is she? She’s not agitated anymore, she’s not anxious, she’s not embarrassed. Here in the gentle cradle of Kara’s presence, she’s … calm … safe … home.

 _Oh, fuck no_. Bury that harrowing thought.

“I’m completely fine,” Lena assures. It’s genuine, somewhat (but that’s a problem for a new day). “It’s just an involuntary neurochemical reaction.”

Kara seems to accept her words without further doubt. She flops down onto her forearms and gives Lena a soft smile.

“For what it’s worth,” Kara says, eyes sparking in the moonlight. “If you ever want to make me cry in point-two seconds, just show me videos of dogs when their soldiers come home.”

Lena snorts, her lips creeping up into a smile. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Kara defends with mock-indignation. “It’s beyond wholesome. That’s just pure love right there.”

“Don’t you dare tell me you’re a dog person, Danvers,” Lena jokes.

Kara makes a face. “Are you a cat person?”

“I don’t know honestly,” Lena exhales. “Lex had a dog before I was adopted, but after that there were no pets allowed in the Luthor household.”

Kara frowns deeply. “That’s just … sad. It sounds lonely.”

“You get used to it,” Lena shrugs. “I never really think of it like that until I let something slip and you — or Jack — looks at me like I’ve locked in a cupboard under the stairs for my entire childhood.”

“Did you ever want a pet growing up?” Kara asks.

“No,” Lena says simply. “I never ever considered it; it just wasn’t within the realm of possibilities.”

“Well, if you do end up being a cat person, it’s okay,” Kara assures. “I love cats too. I actually had a cat for a few years at the Danvers’ house; his name was Streaky.”

“Streaky?” Lena repeats.

“He was all black, and he’d dart around like a little streak,” Kara explains, laughing in fond remembrance. “He was a stray; he helped me … adjust after I was adopted.”

“Ah.” Lena understands. Suddenly, she longs for a childhood pet she never once knew she wanted.

“You do … _like_ animals, right?” Kara asks timidly, like she’s afraid of the answer.

“Really, that’s what does it for you?” Lena raises her eyebrows. “Not my diabolical family or my tragic backstory, no, it’s the notion I may not _like_ animals?”

Kara looks ready to jump out of the bed, and Lena can’t tell if it’s in jest or not.

“Relax, I like animals, Kara,” Lena reassures with a single chuckle. 

“Phew,“ Kara exhales with a smile. “Good, you almost had me worried! Anyways, while both cats and dogs are great, there is definitely a dog in my future someday.”

“I can picture it now …” Lena’s voice takes on a teasing tone. “Thirty-year-old Kara Danvers, sporting a backwards cap and sunglasses, a beer in one hand and a basketball under the other arm, wearing some poor puppy in a baby carrier over her chest.”

“I hope you’re not joking,” Kara says darkly. “Because that’s literally my fantasy. It’s gonna happen, and his name will be Krypto.”

“Of course it is,” Lena rolls her eyes, trying desperately not to consider how hot said thirty-year-old Kara Danvers would look in this scenario, thick biceps on full display in some sleeveless tank-top and joggers tight in all the right places.

Seriously, _that_ does it for her? How far has she fallen?

Fallen for Kara Danvers, right. Fuck, that’s her. 

What is she doing? What has she already done …?

The blonde seems to share in Lena’s pensive moment, and a poignant silence has fallen over the room. She looks like she wants to say something, so Lena keeps silent.

“Lena, I …” Kara swallows roughly and frowns, her eyes glancing down from Lena’s like she abruptly can’t bear to look at her. 

It’s a punch to Lena’s gut, and it persists until the blonde’s eyes return and she speaks again. 

“I … I had a really good time with you tonight,” Kara says.

Oh.

Relief spreads throughout Lena’s entire body.

“I did too,” Lena agrees, pulling Kara in for a gentle kiss. How are Kara’s lips so damn soft? The loving heat is enough to make Lena utter mush inside. 

She goes back for more.

Fatigue, both emotional and physical, inevitably pulls them away from each other. Neither says a word as Lena rolls over and pushes her back up against Kara, and Kara responds in turn by pulling Lena’s hips flush against hers. Her arm lingers protectively around Lena’s waist.

They fall asleep around the same time, two heartbeats only inches apart, each fluttering just a bit too quickly.

* * *


	14. fallout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lena Luthor is nothing less than efficacious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the continued support! You guys are incredible.
> 
> Thank you to IcarusAndHerSun for the wonderful beta reading.

* * *

How’s Lena handling the realization she has feelings for Kara Danvers?

Not well.

Not well at all.

_She has feelings for Kara Danvers._

This whole situation can be distilled down to one truly terrible decision. And what’s worse? Lena’s the one to blame for it.

See, she kissed Kara first. Way back when, the very first weekend of the school year, in the dim, grimy bathroom hallway at Al’s. It had been a moment of monumental weakness.

Emotions had already been running high. Kara Danvers, the personification of arrogance and foolishness, had the audacity to call Lena cold. Which was simply just untrue.

She wasn’t cold; she wasn’t the ice queen that everyone thought her to be. They didn’t know her.

She was just a girl that wanted to feel something.

And Kara Danvers, for all her numerous flaws, made Lena feel _something_.

Kara had looked so incredibly hot that night — shirt halfway unbuttoned, abs peaking out underneath, and hair down just begging to have fingers ran through it — and Lena had acted on her most basic instincts. 

It was amazing. Their first kiss? Heated and desperate. Their first night together? Wild and debased. The utter contempt each woman had for the other infused their sex with a fire and a thrill that made Lena feel _everything_.

So Lena had allowed it to happen again. And again. Then maybe she had even started to seek it out. But then it started to grow into something more and Lena lost sight of her rules, the marker on the shore, and she had waded so deep that she was now adrift.

They had been enemies. Then neutral acquaintances that fuck. Then fuck buddies. And now they were allegedly friends-with-benefits, but they weren’t really, they were something more. Something with weekdays, and sober sex, and sleepovers, and _feelings_. 

Something that terrified Lena.

Because, turns out, Kara Danvers isn’t always arrogant or foolish. She’s genuine and fun and bright. Charming and caring and thoughtful. She makes everything around her better, in a way that’s so effortlessly pure it hurts.

Every time Kara had taken Lena’s clothes off, a stone from her emotional walls came with it. Then, Lena didn’t even need to be undressed anymore for Kara to continue dismantling her guards. Stone by stone by stone, levied away. Until last night … when the final stone had fallen.

Lena had caught feelings.

She had feelings for Kara Danvers.

And arguably worse? She had begun to _trust_ Kara too.

She’s truly away with the fairies now.

How could she be so blind? Lena Luthor doesn’t trust people. But falling for people that are just going to break her heart? Well, that sounds more like something she would do.

And she had done both, leaving her an emotional catastrophe.

When she wakes up Sunday, there’s a small providence awaiting her; the golden noose around her neck is gone and Kara with it. The absence leaves Lena feeling cold.

But yet the woman still lingers all over Lena’s apartment.

Kara’s tea mug (the light blue one, that by some plot Lena had started to consider as _Kara’s_ after repeated favoritism by the blonde) sits washed and set out to dry in the dish rack. There’s a pot of fresh coffee already brewing for Lena — a token from Kara, of course. And there’s another note on the countertop, in none other than Kara’s scribbly handwriting.

_Sorry to leave so soon, but there’s an omelet in the fridge for you (from Apolline’s). Thanks for an amazing time last night. I meant every word I said._

_— K_

Every word Kara said? _Brilliant, caring, beautiful, intelligent … good person_.

Lena feels even more unsettled after that mental recap.

Despite the fact it’s still morning time, Lena makes her coffee Irish, and tries to figure out what to do about her new disastrous affections.

This was the exact reason why Lena had enacted the rules. Though never in a million years had she actually considered she would be the one to break their final rule.

The rules are all broken. All of them.

Lena knows what she should do; what she needs to do. She needs to end things. But yet … she can’t. She can barely bring herself to think about doing it, let alone actually doing it.

She can’t be without Kara Danvers, not yet.

So Lena resolves to wait. Damn her weakened resolve, she will not be broken by Kara fucking Danvers. She doesn’t want this to end.

Her feelings can and will be boxed up and stored away, to be disregarded and forgotten. She can ignore them for as long as she needs to, until they are inconsequential and irrelevant, and in the meanwhile she will continue to operate how she always has.

She can do this. Until she decides otherwise.

She still wants this; misplaced affections and all.

(Several blocks away, Kara Danvers shoots basketball after basketball through a metal hoop, equally as desperate to regain control over her wayward heart.)

* * *

Lena thanks Kara by flooding her apartment with bouquets upon bouquets of flowers, then promptly spends the next week avoiding the shit out of her. 

(Thankfully, Lena actually has a ton of homework to do, so it keeps her conscience clean.)

But then the weekend arrives and a crisis is inevitable.

It’s only been a week since her realization, but Lena feels like she hasn’t stood on solid ground for years. Her feelings for Kara Danvers have left her without control and power.

And she’s, quite frankly, had enough of it.

She needs to regain control. And that’s exactly what she’s going to do. She doesn’t care how.

So she makes the executive decision: it’s powerbitch night.

A powerbitch night entails a tight firetruck-red dress, _very_ low-cut, sleeved but with the shoulder exposed, a matching red choker, red lipstick, and stilettos. And the final piece to complete to look? Lena’s resting bitch face and long-perfected air of sultry indifference.

It’s — plain and simple — an _incredibly_ hot look. Especially for a certain someone that might be into that.

She can practically picture Kara wriggling nervously under her stare. (It’s also going to be yet another time she’s liable to run into Alex Danvers, and she needs every bit of confidence for that.) But the main objective? She needs to feel in control of Kara. Kara, who makes Lena feel absolutely zero self-control.

Jack wolf-whistles when she walks out into the living room. 

“Shit, Lena! What’s the occasion?” a wicked grin spreads across his face. “Big plans tonight?”

“No,” Lena states simply. “This is just a power-play, Jack, nothing more.”

“Power-play?” Jack frowns. “For what?”

“Control,” Lena declares, brushing her hair over one shoulder. “I am going to go have completely-indifferent, unattached sex with Kara Danvers."

“Completely-indifferent, unattached sex …?” Jack repeats, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “That would imply that’s different than what you’ve been doing …”

Jack looks like he’s been struck by lightning.

“Don’t,” Lena silences him with an uncompromising finger. “Don’t say it. I’m aware, and now you are too. There’s no need to say it out loud.”

The beginning of a sentence vibrates from Jack’s throat, only to be cut off by a stinging glare from Lena. The challenge is clear: don’t fucking say it.

Jack mercifully complies and Lena exhales in relief.

“I have just about reached my limit worrying over it, so for tonight, I’ve decided to stop caring and strip it back to the basics,” Lena says. “If it works, then great; she and I can continue.”

And if it doesn’t …? Lena doesn’t want to think about what that means. She still staunchly refuses to admit to Kara that she’s completely shattered their final rule into a thousand pieces.

“Wow, there is _so much_ to unpack there,” Jack says, mouth slightly ajar in … shock? Delight? Honestly, Lena doesn’t care right now.

“Choose your next words very carefully,” Lena advises. It’s not an empty threat.

“Fine.” Jack sucks on his lip. “But Lena, you’re gonna give the poor girl a heart attack in that. Or a boner, which is saying something.”

She can practically feel amusement oozing from him. It’s a pleasant validation, in a way, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“If you have anything else smart to say, don’t say it,” Lena states, her lips twisting upward just a tad. “But … good.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jack giggles. “Now, let's get you laid.”

* * *

Lena knows there’s many types of coping mechanisms. 

There’s the fabled ‘talking it out’, which Lena has really only ever heard of peripherally, and still kind of doubts exists in practice. And there’s the toxic ones. The tried-and-true Luthor family staples: alcohol, drugs, pills. But the weapon of choice tonight? 

Sex.

Lena walks into Al’s with a purpose, well aware of the trail of turning heads that follow her.

“I think your scheme is working,” Jack whispers in her ear as they sit down. “I think half this bar would drop to their knees if you asked.”

“I’m not asking,” Lena says, as nonchalant as possible.

William walks up to them as they sit, a smile on his face. “And what can I get my two hottest patrons tonight?” 

“Such a charmer,” Jack winks, pulling the man in for a quick kiss over the bar. “I’ll have my usual.”

“And scotch for me, please,” Lena requests, sitting impossibly straight. She goes to hand over her credit card, but William waves it away.

“Already paid for,” William smiles softly. “I think you have an admirer. She’s one of our regulars. Told me rather abruptly that all your drinks were to go on her tab when she saw you walk in.”

Lena’s not sure whether to blush or roll her eyes (she does both). She’ll not be outplayed by Kara Danvers and her horny chivalry. This is her powerbitch night, for fuck’s sake.

“Very well,” Lena smirks. “I’ll take your most expensive scotch then.”

“Al started stocking the good stuff. It’s … expensive,” William warns. “For your average college student.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure it’s paid for,” Lena assures.

Jack gives him a look of confirmation.

William nods. “Coming right up then.”

The ‘average college student’ in question magically appears across the bar from Lena, on the other side of the room, but she might as well be only a foot away. Kara’s got her hair down like usual, her cheeks tinged pink from what Lena imagines is a mixture of lust and copious amounts of alcohol consumed. Lena had arrived at the bar fairly late into the evening tonight, so Kara’s had plenty of time to get a few drinks in.

Kara gives her a flirty smile, and mouths the words “ _you look hot._ ”

One corner of Lena’s lips twists upwards in recognition.

It’s the start of a game and they both know it.

Kara makes direct eye contact with her and rips the shot in her hand. If memory serves, it’s probably tequila. The raven-haired woman watches the whole display with indifference and tight lips; only her eyes belie her true enjoyment.

Kara then runs a hand back through her hair in the way that always makes Lena weak, and juts a cocky chin out. It’s a challenge.

That simply won’t stand.

“William?” Lena asks, in a saccharine-sweet voice. “Do you have any cherries back there?”

“For sure,” William nods. 

He gives Jack a quizzical glance, which is answered with a rolling hand gesture from Lena’s ever-loyal wingman. “Pop the lady’s cherry, William.”

“Would you … like one?” William asks her, still a bit confused, but he blindly follows his boyfriend’s nudging.

“If you don’t mind,” Lena gives him a charming smile.

William complies, and Lena holds the cherry in front of her lips like a prized kill. Her eyes don’t waver from Kara’s.

The tip of Lena’s tongue comes out to pull the cherry in her mouth, the red vibrantly clashing against the whites of her teeth before disappearing forever. The cherry stem dangles from Lena’s limp wrist. She raises her chin in a clear taunt.

Kara looks completely ready to vault the bar to get to Lena, collateral damage be damned and disregarded.

_Good_ , Lena smirks. _That's the reaction she was looking for._

Kara makes it about halfway to Lena (the normal way) before she hits a roadblock (cockblock) by the name of Alex Danvers. Alex yanks her unruly sister in for an animated discussion. They’re close enough for Lena to read their lips, faces reflected in the mirror behind the bar. Much to her annoyance, she misses the first few lines as a gaggle of drunk girls pass by them, but then she can see the sisters again.

“ _I still think you’re an idiot_ ,” Alex tells her sister, “ _But, like … I get it._ ”

“ _I know. And right?_ ” Kara replies, not taking her eyes away from Lena’s direction.

“ _Go_ ,” Alex sighs, releasing her arm. “ _I’ll cover for you._ ”

Kara disappears into the crowd for a moment, and then appears magically in the barstool next to Lena.

“Hi,” she says breathlessly, face flushed bright red. The look in Kara’s eyes is unmistakable; she’s _desperate_ for Lena.

“Hello, Kara,” Lena greets with a hint of amusement.

“Yes, hi Kara!” Jack interjects, popping his head into their bubble of sexual tension. Lena’s perfectly-manicured nails dig into his thigh in a territorial warning.

“Jack,” Kara greets him warmly, but it’s only for a second before her eyes are right back on Lena.

“You look …” Kara trails off as she swallows roughly. “Just … wow.”

Lena raises an amused eyebrow. “Feeling particularly eloquent tonight, are we, Danvers?”

“It’s the tequila,” Kara chuckles, pupils dilated. “It makes me stupid.”

“Indeed,” Lena agrees, biting her lower lip in amusement. Kara’s fairly drunk, but it almost serves to make this even better; she can’t hide the depth of her need. No matter the blonde’s innocent smiles or laughs, the absolute _hunger_ in her eyes is undeniable.

Lena couldn’t have asked for a better reaction. She has _all_ the power right now.

Time to flex it.

“If I had known you were going to dress like that tonight, I would’ve dressed up too,” Kara pouts, looking down at the sleeves of her red and blue flannel. She looks adorable, but it is quite the contrast to Lena’s ensemble.

“That’s inconsequential,” Lena says with her perfected air of indifference. “You’ll hardly be wearing your clothes for much longer.”

Kara’s face lights up. “Now?”

“Close your tab,” Lena orders. 

Kara practically vaults the bar for the second time that night, attempting to flag down Al. It’s William who ends up closing Kara’s tab, after a well-intentioned nudge from Jack, and all three of them — Lena, Jack, and William — watching with intrigue as Kara pulls the piece of paper from the sticky counter.

Kara doesn’t make a sound, but her eyes go impossibly wide as she reads the number at the bottom of the receipt: $104.23. She swallows hard as she signs for it, but again, she says nothing.

She says goodbye to Jack and William, but she doesn’t say anything to Lena as she places a hand low on the woman’s back and guides them out of the bar onto the street. She doesn’t say anything as Lena’s hand slides dangerously high up her thigh in the back of the ride-share, but she squirms a bit. She doesn’t say anything in the elevator of Lena’s complex as the raven-haired woman starts to unbutton her shirt right then and there, but Lena can feel her neck muscles strain under the attention of scarlet lips.

She doesn’t say anything until they get into the apartment (direct to the bedroom), when Lena feels a pair of very firm hands grab a hold of her hips in the darkness and pull her back against Kara’s chest. 

“You did that on purpose,” Kara accuses, her voice low in Lena’s ear. “That was the most expensive scotch they had, wasn’t it?”

“Perhaps,” Lena gives her a coy smile, turning her head to the side so Kara can see it over her shoulder. “You’re the one who bit off more than they could chew.”

“I was trying to be nice,” Kara says.

“And if I don’t want ‘nice’?”

It’s as if a switch is flipped.

Somehow, Kara discards her clothes so quickly it should be superhuman, and then she’s all over Lena with a tenacity that gets her soaked. 

“Can I rip your dress?” Kara growls, somewhere deep in her throat. Lena can feel that she’s already got the zipper all the way opened, but that’s not what this is about.

This is about destruction.

There’s no air left in Lena’s lungs, but she finds a way to speak anyway. “Do it.”

There’s the swift sound of fabric tearing and the cool bedroom air against Lena’s back. The remains of the dress fall to the floor with a definite thump.

Fuck, she’s _ready_.

Kara’s lips are pressed up against Lena’s shoulder, her hands wrapped around Lena’s torso, one hand shifting south. It’s soft and tender and she can’t handle that right now. Lena grabs it right as it starts to dip down and inwards with the natural curve of her body.

It’s going to be a fight for the right to come (out) on top.

“No,” Lena says, pulling Kara’s warm palm away from her skin. “Get on the bed.”

“Are you okay?” Kara’s voice is soft in an instant.

“Yes,” Lena states. “Get on the bed, Danvers.”

It’s an easy victory.

“Okay,” Kara complies instantly, sprawling out on her back in a confident pose that makes Lena want to absolutely shatter her.

“Put this on,” Lena orders, tossing Kara the strap and a small bottle. She then throws her hair up into a very pull-able ponytail.

Kara obeys immediately. Lena rewards her by mounting her without delay.

“Fuck, Lena …” Kara whispers, her hands cupping Lena’s rocking hips like there’s something valuable between. It’s too exalting and Lena refuses to tolerate that.

“No,” Lena says, pulling Kara’s hands off of her. “I’m going to ride you until one of us breaks in half, and you’ll hold onto the headboard and nothing else. Alright?”

The resulting look on Kara’s face completes powerbitch night.

“That’s … more than alright.”

Lena digs deep into her bag of dirty and depraved tricks, employing almost every weapon in her arsenal to complete the performance, and it works just like magic. She finally relents after they’ve both had an orgasm or three, when it seems like Kara hasn’t breathed air in a long time.

It’s not until Kara shifts her onto all fours that Lena realizes she’s been duped.

“Do you have another in you?” Kara rasps in her ear, pressing up against her in all the right ways.

“Yes.” 

Oh, Lena Luthor is truly a dumb, horny bitch for Kara Danvers. 

As a consolation prize, she pretends every thud of the headboard against the wall just rails her feelings down deeper and deeper.

It doesn't work, but it’s not for a lack of trying.

After they both wash up, they climb back into the bed; Kara’s sitting upright, regarding Lena with the same perplexed expression with which one would regard an unexpected set of data.

“So …” Kara says slowly, as Lena joins her. “Can I ask what that was all about?”

“What?” Lena asks. She already knows.

“Don’t get me wrong, that was the hottest thing I think I’ve ever experienced,” Kara starts to ramble. “Like _so hot_ , oh my god, especially that tongue thing, but anyways, right, you seemed … determined. Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine,” Lena brushes her off.

“Lena …” Kara’s voice goes soft and those blue eyes steal a piece of Lena’s soul.

_Fuck_ Kara Danvers and the hold she has over Lena.

“I …” Lena slowly exhales through her nose, buying time to think of a suitable lie. “I just had a difficult week with classes.”

“Oh,” Kara realizes. “So this was like a stress relief thing?”

“Yes,” Lena says. Something like that.

“Oh,” Kara accepts, a stunned smile on her face. “Well, if that’s what you do for stress relief, I’ll be your stress ball anytime. I’ll always be there when you need me.”

The last sentence falls differently than the rest; they both ignore the precious purity of Kara’s words.

“I’ll keep that in mind, darling,” Lena teases. “I do love an eager participant.”

“Ready and willing,” Kara gives her a mock salute. “In case you had any doubts.”

“I did not.”

They slide down between the silk sheets, laughing, just as easy as putting on a pair of sweatpants after a long day. Somewhere along the way, the inside of Kara’s right wrist ends up in Lena’s direct eyeline, and it calls a latent memory from that afternoon.

Lena traces a finger over the two letters inscribed in permanent marker on Kara’s soft skin: JD. It’s a little faded, but still unmistakable.

“What’s this?” Lena asks.

“Alex’s handwriting. It’s from Senior Day,” Kara answers softly. “You remember all the fanfare before the game today?”

Lena nods. She and Jack had been in their usual courtside seats. There had been extra decorations and banners for a few of the girls on the team. Prior to the beginning of the game, the seniors on the team and their families had lined up for a special series of announcements to honor them. Alex had been escorted by Kara and a middle-aged blonde woman — then later joined by Maggie after her own turn (escorted by J’onn, the man Lena had come to know as their coach and also the motivating factor behind quite a few of Kara’s annoyed rants). 

Lena already knew of Alex and Maggie, and Kara of course, but the person who had truly caught her intrigue was the middle-aged woman: Eliza Danvers. It had been Lena’s first glimpse of Kara’s mother, and she would not soon forget the image of her nor the nervous pounding of her own heart. Lena had only half-heard what the announcer had said about Alex, but some fragments of it still stirred in her memory.

JD.

Jeremiah Danvers.

Lena stops tracing the letters. “It’s for Jeremiah, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Kara exhales. “Alex and I wanted to make sure we still had him with us today.”

Lena’s lips are already pressed against Kara’s wrist when she realizes her presumptuous mistake.

Lena all but drops Kara’s arm. “I-I’m sorry, I don’t—”

“No, I—” Kara speaks quickly, then seems to realize they’re both about to jump out of the bed in their nervous jitters, and clamps a hand down on Lena’s forearm.

“That was nice,” Kara confesses. “It’s nice to be able to talk to someone about this kind of stuff.”

“I …” Lena pauses to collect herself. “I’m glad.”

“Lena?” Kara asks softly, as if afraid of her next words.

“Yes?” Lena’s breath catches in her throat.

“Can I ask a favor?”

_I would give you anything,_ _Kara Danvers_ , Lena wants to say. _You could ask anything of me._

“Sure.”

“My friend, Barry, is coming into town next weekend,” Kara explains. “He’s a rookie in the ‘MBL, for the Central City Speedsters.”

Lena nods in faint recognition. “Don’t they wear red and yellow?”

“Yeah,” Kara confirms. “They were the other team at the Meteors’ game you went to with Lex.”

“Ah,” Lena says. That seems vaguely right. “So what’s the favor?”

“His fiancée, Iris, will be with him too,” Kara continues, speeding up a bit as she goes. “It’s been so long since I’ve caught up with them, but I usually bring someone so I’m not awkwardly third-wheeling the whole time; so Saturday night I’m supposed to meet up with them at a club — don’t worry about your ID, it’ll be fine — and I was wondering, uh, hoping maybe you’d join me? You don’t have to if you’re uncomfortable, or you don’t want to, I just thought—”

“I’ll do it,” Lena states. The words leave her mouth so easily.

Kara’s brain seems to finally grind to a halt. “Wait, really? You’ll come with me?”

“Yes,” Lena chuckles. “You have a tendency to ramble, Danvers.”

“Oh, Alex has told me many times about my ‘rambling-problem’,” Kara laughs. “She actually times me now.”

“Oh?” Lena arches a brow. “What’s the record?”

“Thirty-eight minutes,” Kara mumbles in disgruntled shame.

“Thirty-eight minutes?” Lena gawks. “What the hell were you rambling about?”

“Uh,” Kara’s face flushes bright red. Like redder than Lena’s ever seen. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Oh, it absolutely does,” Lena narrows her eyes. “Tell me, Danvers.”

Kara’s voice takes on a high-pitched, nervous whine. “I really don’t think … it’s not that important …”

Clearly, Lena’s going to get nowhere by playing fair, so she needs to adjust accordingly. After all, it is powerbitch night. She gets what she wants.

“Kara.”

“The first time I …” Kara mumbles so low, Lena can’t catch the end.

“The first time you what, Danvers?” Lena pulls out her ace card; re-mounting Kara’s hips and letting the sheet fall away from her chest.

Kara audibly gulps.

“The first time I had sex with a girl,” Kara pouts, practically straining with the effort required to keep her eyes on Lena’s face. “It … didn’t go smoothly.”

“Smooth, how?” Lena arches a perfect brow, and she sets her hands over Kara’s abs (a move she has discovered placates Kara in an instant). There is a clear, juicy story here and Lena _will_ know it by the end of the night.

“I …” Kara sucks on her lips, grimacing. Lena can tell she’s so close to spilling it, so she enacts the final blow — a soft, curious pout, with half-lidded eyes, and her head tilted just the slightest bit sideways.

It works instantly.

“I — don’t laugh — I wrong-holed her.”

Lena starts laughing immediately, and Kara chuckles along in resigned defeat, though she doesn’t seem terribly upset with her eyes now riveted on Lena’s bouncing chest.

“You wrong-holed the first girl you ever slept with?” Lena repeats, eyebrows high on her forehead. Her cheeks are truly burning by now but the image of poor, baby-gay Kara Danvers sticking her finger in a place it was very much not intended to go, and the subsequent mortification that must’ve followed, has Lena absolutely dying.

“How do you even do that?” Lena laughs. “The anatomical differences are rather distinct.”

“Okay, woah, it was dark!” Kara defends. “It was very dark and I was very nervous! My hands were shaking!”

Lena just keeps laughing, the indignant look on Kara’s face forever preserved in her mind. In fact, she doesn’t stop laughing until Kara eventually has enough; she grabs Lena’s hips and flips them both over in one impressive show of strength. 

“I hate it when you do that,” Lena informs her. “It’s not fair.”

“Why’s that?” Kara grins. The blonde has a knee pressed up between Lena’s legs, indicating she knows _exactly_ why it’s so unfair.

“You’re insufferable,” Lena informs her, gazing up into her beautiful, twinkling eyes. 

_But I would suffer you gladly_ , Lena thinks.

“So I hear,” Kara winks, but then she plops down on Lena’s side with a tremendous groan and wiggles deeper under the covers. 

They fall asleep that way, one of Kara’s arms wrapped across Lena’s torso, her face pressed into the side of Lena’s neck. In her sleepy state, Lena registers absolutely zero complaints.

So much for completely-indifferent, unattached sex.

Fuck, this is getting hard.

* * *

Kara’s shocked that Lena offers to come meet Barry and Iris. She would’ve thought it would be too close to a date for comfort, or that it means more people will see them together, but neither objection is raised.

It’s a relief for Kara. She’s super excited to see one of her closest friends again, and it’ll be even better with Lena by her side. Barry’s thrilled to meet Lena too, as Kara may have accidentally drunkenly video-called him one night to ramble about how pretty Lena is, much to Iris and Barry’s amusement. So now they _have_ to meet Lena.

But Kara also has another motive for dragging Lena here tonight to meet Barry. And it has everything to do with the impressive number of dead parents between the three of them. See, Barry has his happy ending. A happy ending Kara desperately longs for — for herself, sure — but also one she wants for Lena, even if it’s not with _Kara_. Lena just deserves to know it's possible; orphans like them get to be able to start over, get to find and make a new family.

They have a chance to be happy.

And so far, happy is exactly what the night has been.

Barry insists on going to ‘the bar with the super-strong margaritas’, despite the fact it’s the haunting grounds of more than a few of Kara’s ex-hookups. But Barry pouts and Kara can’t say no, so that’s where they go. Kara prays for it to go smoothly. At least she’ll have Lena by her side, her calming earthly tether.

Kara’s chosen to wear a thick, warm navy turtleneck, and it works a little too well when she looks at Lena’s ass for a second too long and gets caught, a hot blush spreading up her neck and face.

“Eyes to yourself, Danvers,” Lena winks.

As it turns out, the rest of Kara’s outfit — black jeans and a maroon bomber jacket — is even more disastrous, as Barry has taken it upon himself to wear the _exact same outfit_.

“No!” Kara protests, stopping short of Barry’s out-stretched arms. “Barry, you didn’t!”

“Wha …?” Barry’s face falls. He gives Kara a quizzical look. “What’d I do?”

Next to him, Iris starts laughing behind her hand, already realizing the source of Kara’s annoyance. Lena seems equally as amused.

“We’re matching,” Kara grimaces, gesturing to herself and then Barry.

“Oh …” Barry says, looking back and forth. “Hey, don’t be mad, I was technically dressed first!”

“Nuh-uh!” Kara protests. “When did you get dressed? I planned this outfit this morning!”

“Obviously after my game tonight,” Barry says. “But I packed like two days ago.”

“Take your jacket off,” Kara insists.

“Wait, no, you take yours off!” Barry objects. “You’re the one in a sweater; I only have a t-shirt on under this.”

“O-kay,” Iris steps in between them to hug Kara, effectively ending the argument. “Let’s move this along. Both jackets can stay on; you both look very handsome. Hi, Kara.”

“Hi, Iris,” Kara grins, sufficiently placated. She returns the hug with equal vigor, then practically tackles Barry in another.

“This is Lena,” Kara introduces, stepping aside so Lena can join them. “She’s a friend from school. Lena, this is Barry Allen and Iris West.”

_Friend_. Hah. That’s a comical under-exaggeration at this point.

“Nice to meet you both,” Lena smiles, shaking their hands. “Iris. Barry.”

“Why don’t we grab a booth?” Barry suggests, pointing a thumb over his shoulder.

Barry and Iris slide in along one side, while Kara and Lena take the other. To Kara’s surprise, Lena sits close enough for their knees to touch. She can feel the warmth through the denim and it's pleasant.

They start by chatting about the basics; school, basketball, what brings them to cluster around this table together, where everyone’s from. Lena’s eyebrows fly upwards in surprise when Barry mentions he was adopted; she quickly recovers, but Kara’s already noticed.

Kara shifts the conversation onto Barry and Iris, to give them a chance to highlight their healthy and loving relationship. It works a little too well, and Kara starts longing to reach out and wrap a loving arm over Lena’s shoulders and pull the raven-haired woman into her side.

Thankfully, Iris saves her from herself.

“How about some drinks?” Iris suggests. “Lena, will you come with? Then these two can get all the basketball-talk out of their systems before we get back.”

“And miss such stimulating conversation?” Lena jokes, giving Kara’s shoulder a playful nudge as she nods at Iris. “Sure, I’d love to help.”

“Margs?” Iris asks. Both Kara and Barry nod their confirmation.

The instant the two women are out of earshot, Barry slaps his hands down on the table and gawks, “ _Wow_ , Kara! That’s her, that’s the girl …?”

Kara can’t help it as her chest puffs out a little. “Right?”

“She’s gorgeous,” Barry says, in the most factual and respectful tone possible.

“Yeah, but she’s so much more,” Kara fawns, zoning out. “Barry, she’s amazing. She’s so smart, and clever, and fun to be around. Like every time I see her, I go to smile, but then I can’t because I’m already smiling and it’s just …”

It’s just heavenly.

“I’m sure she’s incredible. I still remember the drunken rambling,” Barry teases. “So, tell me! How are things going with you guys?”

“It’s … okay,” Kara replies, but her shoulders sag in defeat before she can catch them.

“What’s going on, Kara?” Barry frowns. “You don’t seem okay.”

“I’m fine, it’s just … I don’t know anymore,” she mumbles. “We’re supposed to be friends-with-benefits, but ‘friendly’ doesn’t even begin to cover how I feel about her.”

“You like her?” Barry guesses.

“Yeah,” Kara exhales. “She doesn’t know. I wasn’t supposed to catch feelings, but I did, and now I’m worried if I tell her, she’ll break things off right then and there. So I’ve just been keeping busy, trying not to think about it, or slip up and tell her.”

“That’s rough,” Barry says in sympathy. “But you gotta slow down, Kara, you can’t just will it away. How Lena feels about you is out of your control, and that’s okay. But the more you try to avoid your own feelings, the worse it'll get — trust me, I remember how it feels to swallow your feelings and stay silent.”

“Alex wants me to tell her how I feel,” Kara says. “But I just can’t quite bring myself to do it.”

“That’s … your decision,” Barry advises. “You can’t make it for Alex, or for me. You’re the only one who knows how you actually feel. It’s yours to share or keep secret. But the only way you can get what you want — if it’s what you truly want — is to pursue it.”

That’s a hard truth-pill to swallow, but there’s something about the gentle way Barry supplies it that makes Kara half-amenable to hearing it.

“I’m really glad to see you, Barry,” Kara smiles softly.

“Me too,” Barry smiles back at her, but it’s quickly replaced by an overly-enthusiastic smile as something catches his eye over Kara’s shoulder. 

“Hey babe!” he says, a little too loudly.

Shit, the girls must be back. Kara’s jaw clamps shut.

Kara’s grateful for Barry’s quick reaction, as Lena’s suddenly sitting next to Kara, sliding a large margarita next to her anxious hands.

“Your tequila-laden monstrosity,” Lena announces.

“Want to try?” Kara offers, giving her a playful wiggle of her brows. She twists the glass so the straw points right at Lena.

“Not on this earth or the next,” Lena declines with something between a grimace and a smirk. “I’ll stick to my scotch, thank you.”

“Suit yourself,” Kara says, then starts happily slurping on her drink. It quenches her burning thoughts while providing an excellent distraction for fingers that want to wander places they shouldn’t.

Conversation flows easily once more, and the night progresses pleasantly.

“You know, Kara is the only other person I’ve ever seen eat as much as Barry does,” Iris says.

“There’s two of them? Now that is something I thought impossible,” Lena jokes, nudging Kara’s shoulder playfully.

“I think it physically should be,” Iris laughs. “Our grocery bill is insane.”

“Hey, I burn a lot of calories!” Barry protests, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “Running requires a lot of energy.”

“The sacrifices one must make for basketball,” Lena teases, turning to look at Kara so that the blonde is well-aware the comment is meant for her as well.

Kara’s heart catches in her throat as time stops for her. 

Lena’s since moved on, laughing at something Barry said, but Kara can’t tear her eyes away from the face of her girl.

Her girl?

Lena — her girl.

Kara realizes with a start; she wants _this_. She wants Lena sitting next to her in a booth — in her booth at Al’s, in her booth at the diner, in her booth somewhere new. She wants Lena tucked snug against her shoulder. She wants Lena smiling next to her, chatting and joking with her friends. She doesn’t want it to be a one-night favor thing, out with Barry and Iris.

She wants it with Alex. And Maggie and Lucy and Mike and James and Winn. And M’gann and Nia and Brainy. And even with Clark and Lois and Eliza too.

She wants it to be _real_.

The second realization is less pleasant.

She needs to tell Lena.

She doesn’t want to, she _really_ doesn’t want to, she’s terrified to; she doesn’t want to lose Lena.

But she wants this so desperately, she wants them to have a shot at love, so … she’s going to tell her.

Kara’s going to tell Lena she has feelings for her.

And hopefully, just maybe, Lena feels the same way. 

It’s not the most off-base thought. It’s been a long time since they've checked in about their enemies-to-lovers dynamic. Kara would even dare say they actually really care about each other. Kara’s caught Lena looking at her before, even when she thinks Kara’s not looking. She’s felt Lena’s heart race when Kara spoons her up against her chest.

It’s possible, right?

Unless Kara gets a sign otherwise, she’s going to tell Lena how she feels. Tonight.

It can’t wait any longer.

Kara tries to take a smooth sip of her drink, only to end up nearly choking on the liquid. It burns her throat, anchoring her back into the present moment, where Barry and Iris are looking at her with concern.

Kara coughs a little, trying to clear her throat.

“Are you alright?” Lena frowns beside her, setting a gentle hand high on Kara’s thigh. Even if Kara was alright before, she wouldn’t be now.

“Yeah, just … swallowed the wrong way,” Kara coughs some more.

“Why don’t I go get you some water?” Lena offers, rubbing her hand up and down as if to soothe Kara’s discomfort.

“No, it’s okay,” Kara rasps.

“It’s fine, I’ll go get you some water,” Lena assures, already sliding out of the booth. “Don’t die on me, Danvers.”

“Wouldn’t … dream of it.”

* * *

Kara’s taken them to one of the nicer bars in town.

To Lena’s surprise, there are actually a few vaguely familiar faces circulating this club. She had to do a double-take, but yes, Veronica Sinclair is _definitely_ here. So are a few of Andrea's auxiliary friends that Lena’s met briefly. So, this must be where the NCU Rich Bitches come to party. Lena’s never been on the invite list (not that she minds in the slightest) but it’s still an interesting peek into what could’ve been.

Apparently the driving interest factor for Kara and her friends are the industrial-strength margaritas they’re known for serving. Iris drags Lena over to the bar to help get the drinks, making pleasant small-talk. When they return to the booth, Barry and Kara are having a hushed, intense conversation that falls off the instant Kara sees Lena’s face.

Kara’s bright smile has to assuage the chill that runs down Lena’s spine.

Nothing’s wrong, she’s just reading into things. They’re two old friends and they could be talking about anything. It’s just poor timing for Lena’s anxious thoughts.

Both Barry and Kara suck down their margaritas in an impressive amount of time, Iris sips slowly at her own like someone capable of restraint, and Lena declines Kara’s offer to share with a repulsed face to enjoy her glass of scotch instead.

The night is actually going much better than she expected; her nerves are gone, and the company is quite pleasant. They’re all laughing and joking around. It’s nice. She can see why Kara would be friends with Barry and Iris, they all have the same easy-going, compassionate way about them.

Lena would dare say she’s actually enjoying herself. It’s a good night.

Or so she thinks.

Then Kara chokes on her drink and Lena goes completely soft and offers to get her a water, inadvertently sending her down fated crossroads.

Lena leans against the bar and flags down a bartender for a water for Kara and another glass of scotch for herself, to be put on Barry’s tab (Iris insisted, despite Lena’s best protests).

“Lena Luthor, right?”

“Yes …” Lena turns to look at her new company. It’s a woman, a college student for sure, with shiny brown hair and angry, amber eyes.

“Siobhan Smythe,” the woman gives her a fake smile. “You were in my macroeconomics class, right?”

The name registers with Lena; something Andrea once said to her about Kara’s past lovers.

“Right,” Lena nods politely. “That class was dreadfully boring.”

“Uh-huh. So,” Siobhan gives Lena a curt once-over. “You’re Kara’s new flavor of the month, huh?”

_Oh_ … that’s how it is. Well, two can play the bitch game.

“You clearly seem to have a vested interest in that answer,” Lena notes, tapping into her expert mask of indifference. Her heart trips a bit at the realization that Siobhan — someone they kind-of know — saw her and Kara _together_ , but she doesn’t let it show.

“Not at all,” Siobhan sneers. “Just wanted to give you a friendly little warning.”

“And what might that be?”

“She’s going to break your heart,” Siobhan informs her. “And she’s not going to give a fuck when she does it.”

This bitch. This is no friendly warning.

“Speaking from experience?” Lena calls her out.

“Look, how well do you actually know her?” Siobhan asks, leaning in with a sense of arrogant superiority. “She’ll let you in, sure, but it’s always at an arm’s reach. She does that.”

Lena remains silent. She knows Kara. Kara is caring, selfless, and brave. She _knows_ Kara.

Right?

“You guys will grow closer. She’ll make you feel special. Maybe you’ll even start to want something more,” Siobhan says. “But she doesn’t. At the end of it, Kara Danvers doesn’t want anything other than a good fuck.”

“Am I supposed to assume you were that good fuck?” Lena arches a brow. “Because if you truly were, it would be _your_ name coming out of Kara’s mouth tonight, not mine.”

“When this is over,” Siobhan says. “She’s going to go back into her little basketball world and forget you ever happened. And you’ll be left to pick up the pieces of your heart alone.”

“That would require having a heart as a prerequisite,” Lena states. “Haven’t you heard? I’m _Lena Luthor_.”

“Yeah,” Siobhan scoffs. “It’s no secret Kara’s got a type — absolute bitch.”

“I’m feeling more flattered than insulted, if that’s what you were going for.” Lena gives Siobhan a look akin to spotting dogshit on the sidewalk. It only serves to further agitate the scorned woman.

“Whatever; I tried to warn you. You may think you know the real Kara Danvers,” Siobhan finishes, “But no one really does.”

“Well, thank you for such a benevolent warning,” Lena drawls, her voice laden with sarcasm, “Clearly, you have nothing better to do with your time. But I do.”

Siobhan gives her a judgmental look, and says, “I doubt for much longer.”

“Hm, no, I think the next few hours will be more than sufficient for good sex. And Siobhan?” Lena sneers. “I _know_ Kara.”

“We’ll see.”

Lena doesn’t have a chance to respond because suddenly there’s a warm hand low on her back.

It’s Kara.

“Lena!” Kara exclaims, pulling herself to Lena’s side. “Everything okay? Oh, Siobhan, hi.”

Kara sends her a polite, close-lipped smile. Lena can feel how tensely coiled the blonde’s body is against her.

“Just fine,” Lena says, sending Siobhan a pointed look as she leans into Kara’s touch. “You know how important community service is to me, darling.”

Siobhan lets out an indignant scoff as she glances between them. “Well this is disgustingly basic of you, Danvers. I know you don’t normally care who you sleep with — as long as they’re all warm and wet for you — but a _Luthor?_ That’s a new, desperate low.”

Lena opens her mouth to give some sharp retort about who’s truly the desperate one here, but Kara gets there first.

“Don’t talk about her like that,” Kara snarls. “You have no idea how I feel about her.”

How Kara feels about her?

… How _does_ Kara feel about her?

“Ooh, and the claws come out,” Siobhan jeers. “How domestic. Well, I think that’s my exit.”

“It is.”

Fucking hell, protective Kara Danvers brings out something in Lena that makes her want to practically whimper.

Kara’s eyes follow Siobhan as she leaves, her hand still pressed firm against Lena’s back. Once the woman disappears into the crowd, the defense drops and Kara’s shoulders sag.

“So, can I ask what that was all about?” Lena bites her lower lip, trying to catch Kara’s eyeline.

“What?” Kara frowns, looking a bit like a dog caught chewing something it shouldn’t.

“I take it Siobhan Smythe is another one of your scorned exes?” Lena guesses.

“Yeah,” Kara sighs, “Lena, I’m so sorry about that. Siobhan is … something else.”

“It’s fine,” Lena assures. “I can handle a bitchy ex. Jack has a rather terrible one too.”

“Still,” Kara says. “What she said is extremely uncalled for. You’re incredible and I don’t see you like that. At all.”

“I know,” Lena intertwines their fingers and gives Kara’s hand a reassuring squeeze. She actually does believe Kara sees her as more than just a Luthor. She always has.

Fuck.

Lena realizes with a start; she wants _this_.

She wants Kara pressed into her side — in their formalwear, in casual clothes out at Al’s, in between Lena’s silken bedsheets. She wants Kara’s firm arm under her anxious fingers, traversing through Lena’s latest social obligation together. She wants Kara’s radiant smile next to her, exchanging sly quips with Jack at the bar. She wants to wake up to Kara in the kitchen, her mug full of tea, cooking up eggs and bacon in a criminally attractive state of half-dress.

She wants it to be _real_.

Fuck the rules; she wants them to be _more_. More than enemies. More than acquaintances. More than fuck buddies. More than friends.

And she’s absolutely terrified. Every brain cell in her proud skull is screaming for her to run, run as far away as possible and forget Kara Danvers ever existed, but her muscles won’t move an inch.

She’s trapped in an ivory tower of her own creation. Does she have the fortitude to make the leap of faith out?

“Lena …?” Kara’s voice cuts through the noise. Tender blue eyes are looking down at her.

_I have feelings for you,_ Lena wants to say. _I’ve fallen for you, Kara Danvers._

If Lena had this realization twenty minutes ago, the next words out of her mouth would certainly be some declaration of her affections. She trusts Kara; surely, she should just be able to admit how she feels. Everything comes easy with Kara, after all.

But now … there’s just the slightest seed of doubt in her mind. Does she _know_ Kara? Should she tell Kara how she feels?

“So what happened between you two?” Lena asks, pushing her thoughts aside. She needs more information before she can act. If she’s going to be so foolish as to admit she has fully and completely decimated the last of their rules, giving Kara every right to end their arrangement then and there, she at least wants to be confident in her choice.

And for all of Siobhan’s bullshit, Lena realizes that while she knows many things about Kara, her past has always been one of the things they’ve danced around.

“I’ll tell you later,” Kara’s face darkens. “Barry and Iris need to leave soon, so we should go say goodbye.”

“Alright,” Lena nods in agreement, ignoring the tremor in her stomach. “Your water.” She offers the plastic cup of water out to Kara; it’s the whole reason she even met Siobhan tonight. 

It’s funny, really; how things can change so quickly.

“Thanks,” Kara says softly, taking the cup in her free hand. Her other hand remains low on Lena’s back as Lena leads them back to the booth. Barry and Iris are all cuddled-up in the booth when they return; Barry’s head rests on Iris’s shoulder, his eyes half closed. He looks exhausted.

“Babe,” Iris says, nudging him upright.

“Hey,” Barry smiles softly, “I think we’re gonna head out. I’m crashing pretty hard.”

“No worries,” Kara smiles brightly. “I’m just so glad I got to see you both.”

“Bye, Kara,” Iris says, hugging the blonde goodbye. “It’s always so nice to see you.” 

Then she turns to Lena, who has only a split second to process what’s about to happen.

“Lena, it was lovely to meet you,” Iris smiles, wrapping her arms around Lena and pulling her in. Lena freezes for a split-second, but then relaxes into the hug. It’s funny, how much more accustomed she’s grown to physical affection ever since Kara entered her life like this.

“It was great meeting you both,” Lena glances from Iris to Barry, shaking the latter’s hand goodbye.

“See you around, Supergirl,” Barry grins at Kara. “Try to keep up.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Barry Allen,” Kara stretches her arms out as wide as they can go, and the two embrace as close friends do. “We both know I’m no match for you.”

Lena’s never seen two warmer smiles be exchanged.

Kara and Lena elect to walk home; they’re not really that far from Lena’s apartment, and it’s a warmer than average night in National City. Kara offers Lena her jacket and then her hand for support, even though Lena’s an expert in walking in heels by now, and the blonde begins to talk Lena’s ear off about her and Barry’s time at basketball camp. They’re only a few blocks away from Lena’s place when it’s clear Kara’s non-stop rambling is a cover for something.

“As fascinating as basketball camp is, I believe I’m still owed an explanation, Danvers,” Lena reminds. She needs to know; the seed of doubt has taken root in the silence. “You didn’t expect me to forget, did you?”

“No, of course not,” Kara exhales in obvious defeat. “You really want to know?”

“I do.”

“We were fuck buddies for a few months last year. Siobhan wanted it to be more,” Kara says softly. “I broke it off. It was … not the cleanest; Siobhan yells very, very loudly. She’s hated me ever since. I … I just couldn’t give her what she wanted.”

What _Lena_ **_wants_**.

Siobhan’s words echo around in Lena’s overstuffed skull: _“She’s going to break your heart."_

In that moment, Lena swallows her feelings, her hopes, her everything. Her walls slide perfectly up into place — months of Kara’s labor re-erected in a single second — reinforced with more cynicism and self-destruction than ever before.

Her decision is made for her.

“Well,” Lena rasps. “You won’t have to worry about that with us; I have no intention of ever requesting a relationship with you.”

It’s spoken out of fear, out of fear of loss, and the words might as well be ash in Lena’s mouth. But self-destruction is the most effective kind, and Lena Luthor is nothing less than efficacious.

“Oh,” Kara lets out a shaky exhale. “Right. I don’t—I wouldn’t either.”

“Right.” Lena agrees, as everything in her brain goes numb.

Suddenly, their intertwined hands feel more like an entangled web than a woven bond, but neither dares let go. They walk the remaining way back to Lena’s apartment in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

Lena’s thoughts run berserk. Of course Kara wouldn’t want to be with her. Not like how Lena wants. But Lena, who will set the rules in the way that always makes her the victor, can still see one way in which she can get what she wants: Kara’s body, even if it’s not Kara’s heart.

She would give anything to know what Kara’s thoughts are. But she can’t, so she doesn’t, so she works with what she’s got.

“So, I was thinking,” Lena rasps, breaking the silence. “I’ve never properly anointed my car.”

“What?” Kara’s mouth parts in a mix of surprise and desire. “You mean …?”

“Yes,” Lena bites her lower lip. It’s a lure at the end of the line; she and Kara may never get to be what she wants them to be, but they can at least be _this_. Be together in this way.

It has to be tonight.

Lena realizes with a start; Spring Break is only _two days_ away. 

She’s leaving Monday — along with Andrea, her friend Grace, Jack, and William — to spend the next week doing horribly gluttonous things in Empire City for Mardi Gras. She had gotten so caught up in the gravitational pull of Kara Danvers that she had all but forgotten about it. 

Her excitement for it has waned. For some reason, it feels like she’s going to set off and National City won’t be there when she returns.

That fear does nothing to settle her nerves.

“We’ll head down to the garage from the outside,” Lena says, pulling Kara along past where they would make their usual turn up into the building lobby. “Besides, I need to get my fill of you now before I leave for Spring Break. Those talented fingers are hard to replace.”

“Right,” Kara agrees, swallowing roughly. It sounds half-hearted, and it’s enough for Lena to extract her hand from Kara’s.

Kara shoots her a worried look. There’s something off about her eyes. They aren’t full of the lust and excitement that Lena’s come to expect. Instead, they look heavy, yearning, … sad.

“My hands are cold,” Lena explains, quickly looking away from Kara as she folds her arms over her chest.

“Ah,” Kara accepts, sliding her own hands back into her pockets.

Things feel … weird. And Lena can’t have that. She needs this to be normal. She needs things between her and Kara to feel normal. She needs Kara to _want_ her.

But suddenly, Kara’s not walking by her side anymore.

“Kara, are you coming?” Lena asks over her shoulder, shooting her a playful smile. She then halts, frowning, realizing Kara is quite a few steps behind her and practically riveted to the ground.

“No,” Kara whispers. “I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t?” Lena gives her an incredulous look and turns on her heel. Her brow furrows deeper with every step closer back towards Kara.

“Lena …” Kara exhales, sucking on her lips. She paces a few steps towards Lena, actually walking a bit past her before turning around.

“Kara …?” Lena cocks her head.

Something is wrong; something feels very wrong.

“I …” Kara’s throat muscles pop out with the strain of her yet unspoken words.

Lena’s lungs start to burn from the lack of air.

“I … I’m declaring for the draft,” Kara blurts out.

“What?” 

Lena heard her — oh, she definitely heard her — but she needs to hear it again. Hear the sound of her heart cracking like glass.

“Basketball. I’m declaring the ‘WBL draft,” she repeats. Kara looks about ready to puke, and Lena’s stare falls off somewhere in the distance between them.

Kara’s declaring. That must’ve been what she and Barry had been discussing in hushed tones tonight. 

Kara’s not coming back to school next year. She’s leaving.

Lena had forgotten that was even a consideration. She had gotten so caught up in those sweet blue eyes, that smile of sunshine, the pure heart underneath all that steel. Of all the little moments; the winks, the smirks, the whispers. The little touches in bed. The warmth of Kara’s body, pressed against hers.

Lena’s going to lose it all. It’s not going to be hers anymore. 

“Oh,” Lena swallows roughly. Her stomach drops through her feet, tearing her heart with it. 

Kara is leaving. Just like everyone else.

“Well … that’s fine,” Lena chokes out, lips trembling. “We can still finish out the semester—”

“—No, Lena, I can’t do this anymore,” Kara whispers. Her voice is so soft and broken, like a ghost’s final howl in the wind. “I’m through.”

_I’m through. I’m through. I’m through._ The two little words echo through Lena’s head on repeat.

Lena can feel the hole in her chest freeze over in record time. It has to, lest she bleed out in full.

Without a sound, she sets her jaw, blinks back a lone tear, and walks right past Kara Danvers and the shattered remnants of her heart.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry! I'll fix it soon ...


	15. slip from the sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An important detail is discovered amongst the aftermath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Everyone! A few important points of note:  
> 1\. This is a bonus chapter. Friday night’s typical update will proceed as usual. The reason I’m doing this is because what was originally one chapter of angst got far too long and needed to be split. The total chapter count has increased again for this reason. I do fully intend on exploring their dynamic in the fluff stages too, as it’s personally my favorite to write.  
> 2\. With that said, this is very much an angst chapter and it ends on the downswing. If you prefer for things to end on a cautiously optimistic upswing, consider waiting for Friday’s update (which will get worse, then better) and read both at once. I know some people love the angst, some people love the fluff, so speedposting the angst chapters is my attempt at compromise.  
> 3\. Thank you all so very much for the support, truly. A huge thanks to IcarusAndHerSun for the beta reading, who was instrumental in helping me fine-tune things

* * *

They’re through.

Kara spends all of Sunday morning on the floor in the middle of the living room, cocooned in a blanket, moping and staring at the wall. The copious amounts of flowers from Lena that once adored the entire space are dead and gone. She’s fully alone.

Her necklace feels heavier than it has in a very long time.

Last night just keeps playing on repeat in her mind; _‘I’m through’_ , Lena walking right past her like it meant nothing, the feeling of Kara’s heart shattering into a thousand pieces. 

Living it over and over, it feels a bit like having her flesh seared off from the inside.

And it’s her fault.

What the fuck was she thinking? Bringing Lena to meet Barry, getting so close to revealing her feelings, bringing up the draft …

Well, at least her record of her relationships always blowing up in her face remains intact.

Kara wraps the blanket tighter around her shoulders and lets the tears swell her throat so they don’t spill out and she’s not forced to acknowledge them.

That’s how Alex finds her.

“Hey,” Alex greets, projecting her voice through the apartment. “How was your date?”

Pain radiates through Kara’s entire body.

“Not a date,” she growls.

“Fine,” Alex sighs. “How was Barry? And why are you sitting on the floor? The TV isn’t even on.”

“He’s good,” Kara gives a curt reply. “I just want to sit on the floor.”

“‘Good’?” Alex parrots. “That’s all I get? Barry Allen gets to meet Lena Luthor before I do, and that’s all you have to offer?”

“Go away Alex,” Kara mumbles, wrapping the blanket tighter around her. Maybe if she pulls it tight enough, it’ll make the pain go away, or at least suffocate her to the point of passing out, and then she won’t have to deal with things for a little while. Dramatic, yes, but it’s all the heartbreak’s fault.

“What’s up with you?” Alex squints. “You never make blanket-burritos unless you’re upset …”

Kara gives the carpet a miserable glare. What about this indicates she’s anything else than upset?

Alex’s voice softens with realization. “… What happened with Lena?”

”Nothing,” Kara says.

Alex doesn’t say anything for a bit, but Kara can hear the fridge door open and close somewhere behind her back.

“This isn’t nothing,” Alex says. She plops down in front of her sister, sitting cross-legged, right in Kara’s eyeline so that she can’t be ignored. In her hands is the kryptonite to Kara’s state of emotional isolation — a pint of ice cream and two spoons.

Kara reaches for it; she knows it's meant for her.

Alex yanks the pint out of Kara’s range. “Talk first,” Alex denies.

“Alex,” Kara exhales, utterly defeated. She doesn’t have the strength or the energy for this today.

“Tell me,” Alex requests, softer this time.

“I …” Alex inches the ice cream closer to spur her on. “I broke things off with Lena.”

Alex’s brow furrows instantly. “What happened? Did you tell her you h—”

“—No,” Kara cuts her off. She doesn’t need _that_ said out loud, an agonizing reminder that her heart wasn’t always broken. “No, I just broke it off. I couldn’t do it anymore.”

“Why not?” Alex pops the ice cream lid off, and rewards Kara with a spoon.

“I … there was a moment, when we were at the bar, just sitting and talking to Barry and Iris,” Kara explains, taking a massive spoonful of ice cream and shoving it in her mouth. “… I just looked over at her, and I realized: I _wanted_ to tell her how I felt. Alex … I _wanted_ a relationship with her. A real one.”

Alex squints in confusion, digging into the ice cream in solidarity. “So why didn’t you tell her?”

Kara lets out a deep sigh as she works through another spoonful. “We ran into Siobhan—”

“—I swear, I’ll grab Lucy and go slash her tires right now—”

“No,” Kara stops that right then and there. They won’t be winning anymore games if two of their starters get arrested for property damage.

“… Fine.”

“Anyways, she cornered Lena at the bar and said some awful stuff to her,” Kara explains. “I defended Lena — not that she needed it — but things were weird afterwards.”

“Does she know what happened with you and Siobhan?” Alex frowns.

“Yeah, I told her how Siobhan wanted a relationship,” Kara confesses. “And she assured me that she _certainly_ didn’t. I had finally worked up the courage to tell her, but once she said that, I just …”

“Shut down?”

“Yeah,” Kara swallows roughly. Her throat somehow feels tighter now than it did last night, when she was crying her eyes out in bed at three in the morning.

“I’m so sorry, Kara,” Alex soothes, awkwardly straining forward to envelop Kara in a hug without crushing the carton. “It’s gonna be okay.”

Kara lets herself collapse under her sister’s secure weight. It doesn’t feel like that.

“I think we’re going to need more ice cream,” Alex mumbles, leaning back.

Kara can only nod in agreement.

* * *

Spring Break means the team is traveling again, away to Midway City for the conference tournament that will span the end of February into March. If they win in the finals, it’s a guaranteed spot in the national tournament. 

It’s a good distraction in theory but it works like shit. Lena Luthor is thousands of miles away; far, far away from Kara Danvers. The distance should help right? But it doesn’t make it any easier for Kara. Even though the fresh mountain air feels soothing in the depths of her lungs, it feels like she can never quite catch her breath. 

She sleeps like shit, she plays like shit, and she feels like shit.

It’s making her immeasurably angry. Who gave Lena Luthor permission to destroy her?

(Kara did, when she caught feelings like an _idiot_.)

Apparently, it’s obvious from the outside as well.

J’onn corners her at the hotel’s breakfast bar. Kara’s the first one from the team there (naturally), and unfortunately, it would seem to be exactly what was expected to occur.

“Kara, do you have a minute?” J’onn asks, his hands on his hips. It’s a very fatherly pose; normally she’s endeared by it, but it annoys her like no other right now.

“Sure, Coach,” Kara smiles. She knows this isn’t really a request.

“Let’s go for a walk,” J’onn suggests. 

Kara nods and follows him. They exit out of the hotel onto one of the sidewalks that winds through the auxiliary gardens. Snow-capped mountains line the horizon in the distance, but the rest is all open fields and blue sky. The sun soaks right into her bones — a pleasant sensation but slightly-unwelcome reminder that she's alive, no matter how she might feel inside.

“What’s this all about, Coach?” Kara asks, trying to put on her most innocent face. But she already knows exactly what this is about.

“How are you doing, Kara?” J’onn deflects the questioning back onto her, not once faltering from his languid walking pace.

“I’m good,” Kara insists. “Never better.” The smile doesn’t reach anywhere close to her eyes.

“Hm,” J’onn hums. “Your teammates wouldn’t agree with that assessment.”

Kara grits her teeth. “Alex?” she accuses.

“It’s not Alex,” J’onn raises a placating hand before she can go tear into her sister. “Your friends care about you, Kara. They’ve noticed you haven’t been yourself recently. I’m inclined to agree with them.”

_You all should mind your own fucking business_ , Kara thinks.

“You’re unfocused, you’re not making smart plays, you’re taking selfish shots,” J’onn rattles off. “That’s not Kara Danvers. That’s not the kind of basketball we play.”

_No one knows Kara Danvers_ , she thinks. _You all just think you do._

But barring Alex, there might have been one other person who would’ve come close.

“Kara, I like to think we have a respectful relationship,” J’onn adds. “You have my unwavering support, but I can’t get you help unless you tell me what you need.”

“I don’t need anything,” Kara says, voice like cold steel. “Thank you for the offer.”

“Is this about your parents, Kara?” J’onn asks. “If so—”

“—It’s not,” Kara seethes.

“Alright,” J’onn accepts after a moment. 

Kara can feel he’s not pleased by her tone, but he tries to keep it at bay.

“When we get back to National City, I’d like you to consider doing something for me,” J’onn says. Kara can feel the tension between them increase with every word, like a loaded spring.

“Yes, Coach?” Kara asks, but it lacks her usual respectful patience.

“Hank’s an excellent therapist, as are his coworkers,” J’onn says. “I’ve sent players to him before, and it’s been a helpful resource for them. If you were to see him, maybe—”

“—I appreciate the offer, J’onn, but it’s not necessary,” Kara sharply declines.

J’onn’s eyebrows shoot up. Kara’s smart enough to know he’s _very_ unimpressed; players don’t get to talk to their coaches that way.

“The semi-finals are Thursday,” J’onn states. “Every single person on this team, myself included, needs to be ready and able to give their all. Distractions aren’t an option.”

Kara stays quiet to let J’onn finish, no matter how done she is with his conversation.

“Kara, you’re one of my captains,” J’onn says. “And that comes with additional responsibility. You, Alex, and M’gann set the tone for the team; they’re looking to you for guidance. The team needs you — and I’m sorry, but as our best player — you don’t get to have off-days.”

An all-too-familiar weight settles onto Kara’s shoulders. She knows her duty; she’s always been able to rise to it. It’s a heavy mantle to wear but she’s always managed. She can do it again.

“I’m fine, Coach,” Kara insists, but it’s softened as she tries to recover from her moment of brazen hubris. “I’ll be good to go.”

“Make sure you are,” J’onn warns, his voice still hardened by frustration. “I need _Supergirl_ out on the floor; I’ll bench Kara Danvers if I have to.”

“I understand, Coach,” Kara sets her jaw and raises her chin to meet his challenge. But it falls a fraction short.

“Good,” J’onn says. His mouth is a firm, tight line of disapproval. “Now go eat.”

It’s an explicit dismissal.

“Yes, Coach.”

* * *

Lena Luthor is still destroying her.

Kara doesn’t know what to do. The finals are tomorrow and she can’t go on like this. 

Apparently, she’s not the only one that’s had that realization. That night, Alex shows up in Kara’s hotel room when Nia ‘mysteriously’ disappears to get a snack with Maggie.

“Hey,” her sister greets.

“Hey.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Alex asks. It’s patient and kind and it makes Kara see red.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Kara states. She’s shifting around the room, pretending to be busy moving piles of clothes around.

“Tell me what I can do,” Alex pleads. She sits gingerly on the foot of Kara’s bed. “I want to help, we all do.”

“There’s nothing to help,” Kara states, further irritation creeping in. “I’m fine, Alex, there’s nothing _to do_.”

There’s a tense moment of silence. It’s a last chance and Kara knows it.

She doesn’t take it.

“Oh my god, enough of this pity-party,” Alex snaps. “You can’t keep acting like this.”

_“Pity-party?!”_

“Yes. I’m done,” Alex says. “Everyone is. We’ve all been walking on eggshells around you, but we can’t afford to do that anymore. Both you and I, and everyone else here, made a commitment to this team! We have a job to do but you need to _get your shit right_ to do it, so we’re gonna sit down and figure it out together.”

“We?” Kara rolls her eyes. “There is no ‘we’, Alex. You have no idea what I feel like right now. No one does.”

“I’m your sister, Kara,” Alex insists. “You were there for me when I needed you the most, and I’m here for you now.”

“That’s nice, Alex,” Kara says in a condescending tone. “But I don’t need it. Drop it.”

“No, I’m not going to ‘drop it’!” Alex exclaims. “I’m sorry about what happened between you and Lena, but you got your heart broken and you’re not dealing with it at all. You’ve completely shut down; you’re not letting yourself feel anything.”

“So what?” Kara roars. “Would you rather I take a page out of your book? I could go downstairs and get trashed at the hotel bar right now!”

“Kara, that’s—” Alex’s jaw clenches roughly, but she speaks with measured patience. “I … get what you’re saying. I wouldn’t be handling it well either. But that’s why I want to h—”

“Yeah, I thought so,” Kara snaps. “So leave me the fuck alone.”

“Woah,” Alex flinches. “Kara, what … ? I haven’t seen you this bad since—”

“—Don’t,” Kara growls. It’s low and it’s a clear warning. “Don’t you fucking dare finish that sentence.”

“Kara …” Alex pleads, looking at her sister in great alarm.

It’s too much, it’s all too much. The constant offers of help, the worried looks, the endless compassion.

She doesn’t deserve it.

She can’t stand it anymore. Her best idea is to try and avoid it all. Hide from it.

Just like always.

“I’m going for a swim,” Kara says. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Alex.”

It’s late as she heads down to the hotel’s indoor pool. She’s not even wearing a swimsuit but she can’t dare resurface upstairs, so she just strips off her shirt and ends up in a sports bra and shorts.

Kara hopes the water can ease the ache in her soul as well as it does her sore muscles.

As always, she jumps in for the full immediate submersion. The water swirls all around her, whisking her hair upwards, and it's warmer against her skin than she would’ve expected. Kara does a few laps to adjust to the weightless feeling; she guesses this is a bit like what it would feel like to fly.

Kara then swims to the deepest part of the pool, takes a deep breath, and propels herself as far down as she can go. She allows her body to float in the darkness. A solitary pause leaves her imagining herself floating through space, nothing and no one. 

It’s nice.

Once she’s made her lungs burn enough to match the pain in her heart, Kara sets her feet against the concrete bottom and pushes up in one smooth motion. 

The cool air feels foreign on the skin of her face.

“Hey.”

Kara’s eyes open too quickly; droplets of water wash over her eyes and disturb her contacts. It stings. She takes her hands and swipes as much water away from her face as possible, but she still has to spend a good minute blinking the lenses back into place.

The first thing Kara sees is the aquatic blue-green of the pool water, vibrantly alight. The water ripples out away from her towards the edge of the pool a few feet away, where a pair of slender legs now hang down into the water, breaking the tidal pattern. 

Her first thought is of Alex, but the ACL surgery scar over the left knee tells her otherwise.

“Hey, Luce,” Kara sighs, finally bringing her gaze up to meet her friend. Her shoulders make broad circles in the water as she treads around. Lucy’s in shorts and an oversized t-shirt (one of James’s, she’d guess), looking near ready for bed, were it not for the piercing intent behind her eyes.

Lucy gives a soft, pitiful smile. “If you’re trying to drown yourself, don’t do it here. An over-chlorinated hotel pool is such a mundane place to die.”

Kara gives her a displeased look. “I’m just swimming.”

“Clearly,” Lucy sounds heavily underwhelmed. “It’s getting late though. Personally, I’d love to go to sleep but Alex’s pacing is keeping me up.”

“Go tell her that, or switch roommates,” Kara snaps. “I don’t know what you want me to do about it.”

“I want you to tell me what’s going on, and why Alex is wearing a hole into the floor,” Lucy explains. “What’s up with you?”

Kara lets her head sink down a few inches so the water brushes the underside of her bottom lip. “Nothing.”

“Bullshit.”

“What do you want me to say, Lucy?” Kara sighs.

“I want to know why you’re playing like shit,” Lucy says. “The finals are tomorrow, Kara, and I’m tired of picking up your slack.”

“You’re doing just fine at it,” Kara says in her best self-deprecating tone. It’s true; Lucy and Alex are the reason why they won the semi-finals today — for once, Kara can’t take even a slice of credit. J’onn had benched her after the first quarter and was firmly resolved to not put her back in. Nia had a hot hand anyways, so it was for the best.

At least that’s what Kara keeps telling herself on repeat.

“We need you if we’re gonna win tomorrow,” Lucy breaks through Kara’s thoughts. “I know it, Alex knows it, the rest of the team knows it, J’onn knows it. Do you know it?”

“I don’t care,” Kara says, idly drifting further away from Lucy.

“I don’t believe that,” Lucy says. “You’re in the gym more than anyone else on the team; I’ve watched you comb over film for hours. You _care_ more than anyone else I know. Where’s that Kara Danvers?”

“I don’t know,” Kara says, and it comes out more honest than she intends.

“That I do believe,” Lucy concedes. “But you need to find her.”

“Just like you needed to go run your mouth to J’onn?” Kara challenges.

Lucy tilts her chin up to meet Kara’s burning glare with resolute composure. “I went to J’onn. So did Alex, and Maggie, and Nia, and M’gann. Go ahead — be mad at me. Be mad at everyone who cares about you. It’s better than whatever this apathetic act is.”

“You want me to get mad?” Kara raises her voice. It sounds even louder echoing off the walls of the enclosed pool chamber. She’s floated back far enough now to jerk to her feet.

“Yeah, I do,” Lucy challenges. “Alex is right — you’ve completely shut down and you’re not letting yourself feel anything.”

“Why are you here, Luce?” Kara rolls her eyes. “And why isn’t Alex here with you? She clearly has something to say to me if she’s using you as a messenger.”

“I’m not a messenger,” Lucy explains. “Alex made her attempt already; she’s not going to stir up more trouble for the team the night before the finals. And Maggie won’t dare yell at her girlfriend’s little sister. But I _am_ a dick, and what you and your thick, stubborn skull needs right now is some tough-fucking-love.”

“Oh, well, I’m glad _you_ know what _I_ need,” Kara snaps.

A fierce heat appears behind Lucy’s eyes. “You want to know what you need? You need to get over yourself. You’re allowed to be going through something, but you don’t get to take it out on everyone else.”

Kara snorts into the water.

“You also don’t get to say that shit after how you’ve been acting,” Lucy continues. “Everyone keeps asking you what you need, but you just keep shooting us down.”

“That’s because I don’t need anything,” Kara clenches her jaw. _Or anyone._

Lucy has always had an exceptional talent for pushing just the right buttons without going too far past salvation, but Kara can’t help but wonder if this is the time she miscalculates and goes past the line.

“Yeah, I guess you don’t,” Lucy sighs, retracting her legs from the water to stand, towering over the edge of the pool. 

Kara looks up to meet her with fire in her eyes, hating that Lucy has the high ground.

“Answer one question for me,” Lucy speaks down to her.

“What’s the question?” Kara retorts. She’ll offer no such concession blindly.

“Who are you so mad at, Kara?” Lucy asks, words piercing straight through Kara’s armor into her heart. “Do you even know?”

Kara swallows hard and doesn’t respond with anything more than a laser-hot glare.

“I thought so,” Lucy flexes her eyebrows. “I’m officially cashing in on my favor. Figure it out, Kara.”

Kara watches with unveiled irritation as Lucy walks out of the pool and she’s left alone again in the lucid waters. Her eyes are wet and it’s not from the water this time. She sinks back down beneath the waves, going as deep as she can, alone with just herself and Lucy’s words.

_“Who are you so mad at, Kara?”_

_Who are you mad at?_

_Who?_

Picking open one wound has a tendency to open them all.

_Everyone!_

Bubbles erupt from Kara’s mouth as she lets out a scream of anger.

Herself, for being weak and vulnerable.

Lena, for making her feel up to love again.

Alex, for her resolute and unwavering support.

Her friends, for their indomitable attempts to reach her.

Every failed attempt at companionship; Leslie, James, all the other blurry faces, even Siobhan. _Especially_ Siobhan now.

Herself, for trying to push away everyone she cares about just to feed her new self-destructive streak.

Her parents, for leaving her alone and lost in a strange huge world.

_Everyone_.

Suddenly, Kara doesn’t care about the pain anymore; she opens her eyes. Her contacts wash into a blur and for a second, she can pretend the shadow cast on the wall in front of her is the face she wants to see the most.

Her mom.

She just wants a hug from her mom, to stroke her hair, tell her it’s gonna be okay, and that she’s still loved.

_Why did you leave me?_ Kara wants to cry. _You were my mom and I needed you._

_You left me alone._ The searing heat in her eyes is growing stronger now, and she’s forced to squint against it. _You abandoned me alone in this world._

_How could you?_ Kara can feel the rage boil in her neck, tensing every muscle, sealing off her airway. _I lost everyone I loved. And now that’s all I seem to know how to do._

The shadow ripples unapologetically in front of her.

_Why me? Why am I the one left?_

It always comes back to that.

Kara’s eyes close fully as she’s forced to rise to the surface to take a long-overdue breath. Her arms shoot up straight up in the air during her ascent, only for her fists to slam back down on the water surface. She hits it hard enough to smart a little, but it’s good, it’s what she deserves, so she does it again and again until gravity drags her back down.

She sinks down again, anguish depleted, only to be replaced by cooled anger this time.

She’s too far gone, she knows this now.

She should’ve known that after Leslie, when her inability to let people into her past cost her the first (admittedly toxic) love she ever had.

She should’ve figured it out after James; he should’ve been perfect with her, but it just _didn’t_ work.

She should’ve been certain after Siobhan — if she couldn’t get things right with someone she didn’t really care about, how could she ever get it right with someone she _did_?

So she never stood a chance with Lena Luthor. She never deserved one. There’s just too much blood on her hands.

Love isn’t for her.

But basketball is. Basketball has been her retreat, her haven, her purpose for the past eight-something years. She buried herself into it after losing her family, after losing Jeremiah. And it worked. She’s just been going about it all wrong this time around; basketball isn’t the distraction from her feelings, it’s the outlet. The solution — it always has been.

It’s always been there for her.

And it’s the one thing she refuses to lose. She can control that part of her life.

She’s Supergirl, the college basketball superstar, just as much as she is Kara Danvers. And Supergirl is strength and power and perfection incarnate.

And she’s going to act like it.

Now that she’s done and reached her resolution, Kara slowly strides up the pool steps, feeling the weight return to her shoulders as the water rolls down her body, but now she has the strength to meet it. She feels furious and driven and cold as a steel edge — she feels like Supergirl.

Kara actually sleeps that night.

In the morning, Kara sits opposite of Lucy in the hotel lobby and gives her a small, stoic nod of gratitude.

“Thank you,” Kara says. Her voice is low and firm and charged with restrained anger. Not directed at Lucy, not anymore, but rather harvested and repurposed for the most-important and only task at hand.

Lucy smirks in relief; all is forgiven between them.

“We’re gonna fucking win today,” Lucy states.

The determination in Kara’s eyes speaks for itself.

* * *

They’re through.

It leaves Lena feeling a bit like she’s slipped from the sky.

She doesn’t really remember much of Sunday. But she doesn’t want to. She ignores the bomber jacket crumpled by the front door, she pretends there’s not a pile of basketball clothes in her closet, and she buries a certain blue mug in the back of her cabinets.

On Monday she finds herself in her tried-and-true hell: an airplane. But it’s bound for Metropolis, not Empire City. It was a last-minute decision, but one Lena had to make for the sake of her liver, which would not be able to support a whole week of wounded binge drinking graciously excused by Mardi Gras celebrations.

The flight east is dreadful as always, but this one is even worse because she spends the entire five-hour flight shaking and yearning for Kara’s soothing presence, to hold her hand and make her laugh.

But she’s not there. It makes Lena feel ever more hollow on the inside.

She’s hurt, but she can only half-blame Kara. Kara has an incredible gift and how can she turn down the opportunity to use it? Going pro means financial security for Kara and her family too, which is something Lena realizes she never stopped to consider until now.

How can Lena hate her for forging towards a better future?

A bitter, selfish part of her still can. But the rest has resigned to accept her new broken state; she was never going to be good enough for Kara Danvers. It was a naïve delusion to think otherwise. So she accepts the truth and prepares to weather through the stormy healing process while tucked away in the safety of her emotional ivory tower.

Besides, she’s already destined to spend the next week in her literal ivory tower — Luthor Manor, Metropolis.

The only upside to being home is that Lillian’s away at a conference the same week. They haven’t exchanged a single word since Kara all but berated Lillian in her own kingdom. Even the memory of it makes Lena feel so _alive_. She sucks her teeth in annoyance at that fact, but her gut dances happily all the same. She eventually quenches it.

For once, Lena’s actually a little relieved to be back in Metropolis. Far, far away from Kara Danvers and her broken heart.

She can block everything out here. Just like always.

In theory.

But for that to work, she needs to stop fucking thinking about Kara Danvers.

She tries fencing. She tries a few rounds of chess with some of the household staff. She tries going for a drive in one of Lionel’s old Ferraris.

It doesn’t work.

Blue eyes and an unyielding smile — that she would pay any amount of money to see again — plagues her mind and poisons her soul.

Her appetite is gone, as is her ability to sleep. All she can feel is the resolute ache in her chest.

So she does something truly desperate; she buys a paper brick and resolves to teach herself advanced quantum physics.

It comes close to working.

Until Jack (she still hasn’t told him the reason why she backed out of their break plans) texts her a photo of his bare chest covered in hair and multicolored strands of beads, and somehow she ends up scrolling through her social media instead. It’s mindless and distracting, for a while. But a long time ago, she had followed the NCU women's basketball account, and by some cosmic form of cruelty, the algorithm chooses now to bear that fruit.

An article pops up with a header she can’t tear her eyes away from.

**_Supergirl’s Stock: Will the NCU Superstar Declare for the NWBL Draft This Year?_ **

_With the deadline for the NMBL and NWBL draft declarations only a month away, all eyes are looking at Kara Danvers. National City University's resident superstar, nicknamed ‘Supergirl’, is one of the most-anticipated declarations of this draft year. Danvers is projected to be a first-round pick at minimum, but most experts agree she’s the clear first-choice. While Danvers’ draft stock may be solidified, the only murky detail is when it’ll hit the market. Danvers has yet to indicate how likely she is to declare this year or_ —

_Save your fucking breath_ , Lena thinks. _Everyone will have their precious Supergirl soon._

She doesn’t care about the article’s contents. She doesn’t care about the blister it puts in her stomach. She has more important things to do, like teaching herself Fermi’s Golden Rule.

Golden. Rules. Kara fills her head again like some insistent parasite.

_Fuck you, Kara Danvers_ , Lena seethes.

She clicks her phone off and chucks it over onto her bed. It hits with a solid thud, right as her bedroom door is pulled open.

“Ouch,” a smug voice says from her doorway.

“What do you want, Lex?” Lena asks, not even looking up from the book in front of her. “The door was closed for a reason; I’m busy.”

“For starters, I want to know what that poor phone did to you,” Lex teases, sauntering in. “And you should lock it then.”

“Most people know to respect a closed door,” Lena retorts. “Except pests, I guess.”

“You’re in quite the mood,” Lex notes, plopping down on her bed. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Lex pick up her phone and start to fiddle with it.

“Yes, it’s almost like I want to be left alone …”

“What’s your passcode?” Lex asks, typing repeatedly into Lena’s phone. “Shockingly, it’s not 1-2-3-4 _or_ 10-24.”

“My passcode is not my birthday, though I’m impressed you remember it,” Lena sighs. “And I’m not going to tell you.”

(It’s 5272 because she’s a sentimental idiot, but no living soul needs to know that.)

… Fuck, she needs to change that.

“Spoil-sport,” Lex huffs, plopping the phone back down. “Anyways, you and me, dinner at 5:30. You’ve got two hours.”

“No,” Lena declines. She’s never enjoyed it, but Lex’s constant expectation for everyone to bend to his whim is particularly irksome tonight.

“Lena, please,” Lex requests, oddly tender. “I want to do something special for you. It’ll be our last night in Metropolis together for a while.”

Lena gives him a stony stare, unimpressed at the notion of having her plans changed. He actually seems genuinely worried at the chance of disappointment. It's a new look for him, and her resolve starts to wane. Perhaps it _would_ be a decent distraction …

“Fine,” Lena concedes. “I’ll go.”

“Excellent!” Lex smiles in delight as he makes his exit. “I’ll leave you to it then.”

Lena begrudgingly rises from her desk, the motion unfamiliar to her stiff joints. Her muscles are still a bit more sore than she would care to admit after her return to fencing. Regardless, she dresses in her Luthor best and finishes with every single hair in its place.

Mercer drives them to the restaurant, and Lena can practically feel Lex buzzing with excitement on the ride over. He’s high on something, but it’s really hard to tell just what.

“You could look even a little excited,” Lex tells her when they get close. “I don’t want to look like I’m pulling up with some emo chick who’s broken.”

Lena flips him a cold middle finger, face like a statue. Her emo phase had been restricted solely to tenth grade and was certainly long over.

The restaurant is a classy, upscale French place — Lex’s favorite — and also one of the most expensive places to dine in the whole city.

Lena feels her chest tighten when she sees where they’ll be eating.

“Lex,” Lena grits her teeth. “What is this?”

“Relax,” Lex says. “I dropped 10K on the table alone so we would be secluded. I know you value your privacy.”

Sure to his word, there’s only one table in the entire section of the restaurant with place settings. 

It’s a square right in the middle of the room, draped in elegant cream fabric and covered in crystal and silver. The surrounding tables nearby are pulled back in the name of space. None of that is unusual, but what instills dread in Lena’s bones is one specific detail — there are _four_ places set.

“That’s not my present concern,” Lena grits through her teeth. “Who are the other two chairs for?”

“Oh, the Kents are joining us,” Lex says, inspecting the menu. “Clark and his wife, Lois.”

“Very funny, Lex,” Lena sucks her teeth. “I’m not in a joking mood.”

“I’m not joking,” Lex gives her a mildly puzzled look over the top of the leather square between his hands. “I thought you liked Clark?”

“I—”

“Lex!”

As if summoned by his name, Lena turns around to see none other than Clark Kent walking over towards them. 

He’s in a steel grey suit this time, bringing out the blue in his metal-framed eyes, and a single lock of hair falls down over his forehead. Next to him is a woman with long dark hair and a warm, tenacious smile. They both look a bit on the tired side — bags under their eyes — but Lena would imagine that’s just what happens to new parents.

“Lena, it’s great to see you,” Clark says, shaking her hand. “This is my wife, Lois Lane; the fiercest, most intrepid reporter in the business.”

“Nice to meet you,” Lena offers a polite hand to shake.

“It’s a pleasure,” Lois greets, ignoring the hand and pulling Lena in. “I’m a hugger!”

Of course she is. They are only two seconds in and this is already testing Lena’s perilously thin patience.

“Lois,” Lex greets. He doesn’t bother to stand, secure in the company of old, familiar friends.

Clark pulls out Lois’s chair, takes her coat, and drapes it over the backrest with unparalleled yet effortless attentiveness. It sends a jolt of odd familiarity down to Lena’s gut.

They all exchange pleasantries and discuss what dishes sound good. While they wait for the food, Clark and Lex recap his latest game in a fever, until Lois puts her foot down and demands a new topic. They then discuss Lex’s latest ventures for a little while, then politics, then Lois’s recent works. The food is delicious but it might as well be mud for all Lena can enjoy it.

Her singular focus is this torturous, calamitous, in-a-different-world-could’ve-been family dinner.

Clark and Lois seem so happy and charming and in-love that it physically hurts to watch. And for once in his life, Lex appears to have no desire to take up the limelight. The only redeeming quality of this whole catastrophe is the one waiter who keeps Lena’s wine glass full with unparalleled dedication. But the rest is miserable to sit through.

She’d almost rather hear Kara break things off between them again. 

Almost.

“Hey, have you ever heard the story about how these two got together?” Lex asks, leaning conspiratorially into Lena’s space, but keeping his eyes on Clark.

Clark blushes, and it’s a wistfully familiar array of pink beneath steel blue. “Lex, no, we don’t—”

“—Oh, this story is one of my favorites!” Lois chuckles, an excited gleam in her eye. “I’ll tell it.”

“No, hun, you don’t really—”

“Nonsense,” Lois scoffs, leaning in towards Lena. “Clark and I met my first day on the job. I had just started as an assistant reporter for the Daily Planet, and I had been given the sports section — keep in mind, I knew nothing about basketball at the time!”

Lena gives a polite laugh.

“But I was ready, right, this was my first day and I was going to make the most of it,” Lois explains. “I was told to go interview Superman, the Metropolis Meteors’ superstar rookie.”

Clark picks at the label of his beer, all smiles as he watches his wife. He’s probably heard this story a thousand times before, but he’s looking at her like it’s all brand new to him. His grin is like a pure ray of sunlight and Lena can feel the last scraps of her appetite leave her.

“The first time I met him, he was still in uniform,” Lois says, “He looked superhuman, just oozing confidence and talent — and muscles. It took my breath away.”

Regrettably, Lena can imagine the exact sensation.

“The interview went well …” A sly grin creeps up Lois’s face. “So well, in fact, that he mumbled and bumbled his way through asking me to dinner, and—”

“—then she rejected me on the spot,” Clark chuckles.

“I didn’t want to be unprofessional,” Lois explains. “It was my first day! I had a reputation to establish, and _that_ wasn’t the one I wanted.”

Lena nods sympathetically, taking a sip of her vital wine.

“And I respected that,” Clark says. “So I thanked her for her time and I didn’t say another word about it. Not until her last day, when she was getting switched off the sports section. I asked her out again, and she said yes.”

“Well, I couldn’t resist forever,” Lois bites her bottom lip at Clark. “I’m only human, after all.”

“I’m well aware,” Clark nods. “So human, in fact, that she got nervous and cancelled on me. Completely stood me up.”

“Hey, that’s not entirely true!” Lois objects. “Lucy, my little sister — who you might know actually, she’s friends with Kara now — got into a fight at school. Our dad was … indisposed, so I had to go deal with it. And _someone here_ has terrible handwriting, so when I called his phone number to explain what was going on, it went straight to some stranger’s voicemail.”

“My ones look like ones!” Clark protests.

Lois holds up a hand to silence him. “They look like sevens.”

“They do look like sevens,” Lex confirms. 

Lena gives her brother a curious look; it’s very odd to see him like this. There’s no bravado or grandeur, minimal substances, and the oddest part of all? He’s quiet and relaxed.

It’s mundane and oddly … normal. If it wasn’t one of the first times she’d ever seen it, she’d say Lex was — as Kara would put it — ‘just chillin’.

Perhaps Kara isn’t the only Super who can bring out the best in a Luthor.

_But Lex gets to keep his Super,_ Lena’s inner voice nags. _Your Super didn’t want you._

“Anyways,” Lois continues, interrupting Lena’s thoughts. “I don’t think I saw him for like three years afterwards. I assumed he had completely forgotten about me. I mean, he’s Superman! But I always pined for him.”

“So what led you to reconnect?” Lena asks, swallowing a little too thickly.

Both Lois and Clark’s eyes dart over to Lex, who’s now leaning back in his chair like a clever king.

“I did,” Lex boasts. There’s the brother she knows. “Lois was doing a piece on one of our newest Luthor Corp products at the time. I knew who she was, and I had noticed how Clark still always read her articles, no matter what the content. So I hatched a little plan.”

Lena arches a brow, asking her question without her lips ever needing to move. _What did you do, Lex?_

“I invited Lois to come to one of my parties — great for networking, or meeting a certain best friend of mine — and then I summoned Clark,” Lex explains. 

“Except,” Clark says with a bit of ire. “Lex told me it was an emergency, so I came as soon as I could, only I was a bit underdressed. But when I walked in and saw _Lois Lane_ standing there, it didn’t matter. At Lex’s insistence, I was going to try one last time.”

Lex’s chest puffs out in pride. Lena can’t remember the last time she saw her brother this content. It’s a stark contrast to her own turbulent heart.

“So I went up to her, still in my glasses and my old muddy barnyard clothes from earlier, and I ask—”

“—It was more of a nervous rambling,” Lois adds.

“—and I _ask_ her if she’d like to get a drink together,” Clark recounts. “And she politely says no, she’s waiting for an old friend: Superman. I thought she was joking at first; I was so confused.”

“Who knew a pair of glasses could be so deceptive?” Lois laughs in good humor. “I had no idea _Clark_ was Clark.”

“I realized Lois didn’t recognize him,” Lex explains. “And once I had assembled all the pieces on the board, I had Finch ‘accidentally’ knock Lois into the pool.”

“You didn't,” Lena hisses in surprise.

“He did,” Lois says. “Lucky for me, Kansas over here can’t resist a damsel in distress. Clark jumped right into the pool after me; _my hero_.”

The phrase makes Lena’s heart collapse.

“The water knocked off his glasses and slicked back his hair,” Lois says. “So when I opened my eyes, there was Superman to my rescue.”

“I would do it again in an instant,” Clark promises, then turns to Lex with an annoyed expression. “Though, you could’ve just introduced us like normal people. Next time, I’m throwing _you_ into the pool.”

“Oh, hush, we all know there’s some steel under that Kansas wheat,” Lois says affectionately, sending her husband a look that drives a stake of loneliness through the rubble of Lena’s heart.

Fuck, she misses Kara.

“That part I also could’ve done without,” Lois adds. “But if that’s what it took to get us together, I’m glad you did it, Lex.”

“Ah, I figured I owed Clark a favor,” Lex gives a humble nod. “And the poor man really needed a girlfriend to ward off the resident Cat on the prowl.”

Lena gives her brother an incredulous look. Lex Luthor, a sentimentalist?

Lex catches the scrutiny. “What? I have my moments of weakness.”

“Love isn’t weakness, Lex,” Clark states.

What is this? Do Clark Kent and Kara Danvers swap these cliché, tender lines every morning over breakfast? Lena can feel the irritation set into her bones.

“Bah,” Lex brushes him off. “Though, it does seem like my parties have a proclivity for … _bringing people together_.”

His words are entirely too pointed and Lena stills. Her brother turns and gives her a cocky look, but she doesn’t react, and he falters in doubt.

“And the rest is history,” Lois says. “Another two years later, Clark proposed and I said yes.”

“Let’s not tell that story, hun,” Clark chuckles nervously, idly flexing a hand.

“You’re no fun, Kansas,” Lois teases him. 

“So you both still had feelings for each other?” Lena asks. “Even three years later?”

“Yup,” Clark nods. He grabs Lois’s hand and smiles at her. “I just could never seem to get her out of my head.”

“Of course,” Lois answers for herself. “When it comes to love, no matter what kind, you have to hold out hope.”

“To hope,” Clark raises his beer to initiate a toast.

“To hope,” the three of them echo. Lena hears the words leave her mouth, but she doesn’t mean them, doesn’t feel them. They just serve to worsen her longing and the hollow feeling in her chest.

Her hope is gone, drafted off to war and never to return.

“So, how’s school been?” Clark asks Lena. 

“It’s good,” Lena answers. _It fucking sucks because your cousin broke my heart._ “Pretty much business as usual.”

“Have you seen much of Kara?” Clark says. “It seems like she’s been having a great time this year.”

“Not particularly,” Lena lies. _Yes. In my bed, in her bed, on my couch, in her shower, and maybe even a bathroom stall._ “I would imagine we’re not really on the same schedule.”

“Yeah, basketball usually means a lot of early mornings and late nights. It’s tricky to manage it all,” Clark nods.

“Congratulations, by the way,” Lena says, giving him a polite nod. “You both must be excited that Kara’s declaring.”

“Declaring?” Clark frowns, thick brows disappearing behind the frames of his glasses. “For what?”

“For … the basketball draft …?” Lena says slowly, also now confused. She had thought her comment would be met with enthusiastic smiles and excited chuckling, not this. 

Certainly not this.

“Insider information, sis?” Lex drawls, and Lena can feel the heat of his gaze analyzing her every motion. Lex is uncharacteristically quiet afterwards, which instills a deep dread in Lena’s stomach. That’s going to be a problem she’ll have to address later.

But she has bigger problems, re: Clark’s confused and oddly amused face.

“Did you hear that from her?” Clark asks. There’s a bit of mirth to his confused voice and Lena doesn’t care for that shit at all.

“Yes …” Lena’s eyes narrow. “I … ran into her at the bar recently.”

That seems to connect some invisible dots for Clark. “Oh, the bar?” he chuckles, looking incredibly relieved. “She was probably just trying to impress you.”

Oh, nothing could be further from that statement.

“Kara likes to ‘talk the talk’ every year, keep the buzz going,” Lois adds. “By playing coy, it keeps a certain beneficial air of mystery; people love the suspense. But unfortunately for all those story-hungry reporters—”

“—Kara’s not declaring,” Clark finishes.

Kara’s not declaring? But …

Clark’s conviction is stronger than steel and it hits Lena faster than a speeding bullet to the heart.

Kara’s _not_ declaring.

Lena’s firmly-set lips fall apart in her surprise. She blinks twice and swallows hard.

Kara’s not entering the draft. Kara’s not leaving NCU.

Kara _lied_ to her.

Lena feels the realization run down her skin like licking flames. Kara _lied_. The truth cauterizes the shattered pieces of her heart a little too well.

“I see,” is about all she can muster up in her devastation.

Lex raises an eyebrow beside her, but she’s too focused on Clark to notice.

“Yeah, Kara won’t actually declare until she’s set to finish with her degree,” Clark says, fiddling with his glasses. “It was something her parents always wanted for her.”

Her parents?

Those two little words bring a painful moment of clarity to Lena. Kara’s parents, her loss … “ _it was_.” It’s a striking reminder that Lena actually doesn’t know Kara that well. But Clark does. There are people that do know Kara, and get to love Kara, and get to _be_ loved by Kara. But not her.

It leaves Lena feeling like a banished outsider looking back at her former home.

“It took Eliza and I a lot of convincing to get Kara on board with waiting when she was eighteen and stubborn,” Clark continues. “But thankfully she’s grown out of that reckless streak.”

_Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure of that_ , Lena thinks ruefully.

“Reckless streak?” One of Lena’s eyebrows shoots up to accent her question.

Clark and Lois both chuckle a little, exchanging a mutual understanding.

Clark gives an affectionate smile. “Kara’s a much more talented player than I was at her age. She already had high expectations to meet, given her relation to me, but she far exceeded them. She became the brightest buzz of the college basketball world almost overnight.”

“I love her dearly, but it went straight to her head,” Lois chuckles. “Like it would to any teenager.”

Now _that_ sounds like the Kara Danvers she had first feuded with. Arrogant and self-absorbed. Shortsighted.

“She wanted to do a one-and-done and move up to the pros after her freshman year,” Clark explains. “She almost did it too, regardless of what she had promised Eliza and I.”

“Why didn’t she?” Lena frowns. By the principles of chaos theory, there now exists a world in which Kara left NCU two years ago and she and Lena never happened. Lena’s not sure if she’s relieved or saddened at the thought.

“Because of Alex,” Clark says. “They won the national title together Kara’s freshman year. If Kara stayed at NCU, she and Alex would have a chance for another. There’s no one on this planet Kara loves more than Alex — and she loves basketball — and at NCU, she could have both.”

There’s a bit of an uncomfortable tension between Lex and Lena, who both know they wouldn’t have made the same choice. 

In fact, there are times in their pasts where one would say they had actively avoided each other: after Lionel’s funeral, after Lena had come out, after Mercy’s departure. It hadn’t been malicious, just the combination of uncertainty and grief causing them to push away anything that made them feel vulnerable. But like the tide, they always found their way back to shore, eventually.

Lena’s not sure if their waters are rising or receding this time.

“Actually,” Clark lights up with a huge grin. “Kara’s team is playing in their conference finals tonight. If they win, they’re headed to the national tournament. Lois and I were already planning on watching it; we’d love for you two to join us.”

“Ah, Clarky! How could I say n—”

“—No.” Lena cuts her brother off, a death-grip on the seat of her chair. If she could will the wood to splinter under her fingers, it would be a pile of toothpicks by now. The last fucking place she will be going is to _Clark Kent’s_ house to watch _Kara Danvers_ play _basketball_.

“No, Lex and I should get back to the Manor. We have an early morning tomorrow,” Lena makes an attempt at diplomacy this time. “But this dinner has been absolutely wonderful, thank you both.”

“But …” Lex over at her, looking a bit like a kid in a candy shop with no money.

“We need to go,” Lena sucks at her teeth. She flares her eyelids in warning, which Lex seems to accept.

“Fine,” Lex sighs. “The Lost Princess will get her way. We should get going.”

Clark offers to cover the bill, but Lex declines and postures around, waving his metal card. Clark doesn’t back down, Lex pushes harder, Lois shoots her an apologetic look, and Lena wants to die. Anything to not be here anymore.

As always, Lex gets his way. The bill gets paid, friendly goodbyes are exchanges, and then the Luthors find themselves en route back to the Manor.

The tension in the car is palpable. Lena wouldn’t be surprised if poor Mercer could feel it all the way up in the driver’s seat, even through the drawn divider.

“So, do you want to go first, or shall I?” Lex sighs, sliding down in his seat.

She will absolutely be going first.

“What the hell was that, Lex?” Lena hisses.

“Ladies first, then,” Lex mumbles. “And what the hell was what?”

“That dinner,” Lena says. “What sort of draconian ambush was that?”

“You didn’t like it?” Lex gives her a look. He’s got a smug, close-lipped smile across his face but his brow is furrowed. “I thought it would be a fun little meet-the-family surprise.”

Lena’s stomach solidifies.

Meet-the-family?

Fuck. That only means one thing.

“You know …” Lena realizes.

“I know,” Lex grins, outstretching his hands in a grand gesture. “So, when do I get to meet her, officially?”

_Never._

“How?” Lena chokes out. “How did you know?”

“You brought the cousin of my best friend to a Luthor Foundation fundraiser,” Lex says. “And whilst there, she insults our mother; you really think I wouldn’t have heard about that, one way or another?”

Fuck, he’s right.

In her blind desire to have Kara by her side, Lena had failed to foresee this particular yet inevitable conversation. Of course Lex would find out. And she doesn’t exactly have a very convincing cover story to save her ass.

It doesn’t matter though, because Lex’s next words are the nails into the coffin.

“And if that wasn’t enough,” Lex gloats, holding up his phone for Lena to see. “There’s also this.”

It’s a photo from the fundraiser, perfectly framed around Lillian and herself. Her mother is standing up at the podium, mid-speech, while Lena stands to her side, a glittering golden crest captured perfectly over her chest.

_Motherfucker._

“That necklace is quite distinct,” Lex drawls. “In fact, it’s _identical_ to the one Clark wears constantly, as if it was part of a pair of family heirlooms or something …”

“Don’t,” Lena requests, though she already knows he won’t be able to stop himself.

“You and Kara Danvers — together,” Lex grins. “I knew it.”

Lena imagines this is what dying must feel like; every regret and mistake quickly instilled into a single second. “We’re _not_ together.”

_Not anymore._

Lex ignores her.

“So, how long have I been right for?” Lex is practically giddy with delight. “Before or after the holidays?”

“That’s all this is to you?” Lena asks incredulously. “It’s a matter of being _right?”_

“No, of course not,” Lex snorts, a cocky grin on his face. “It’s just the most exciting part. I always figure it out, even when it's something you try to hide from me.”

His hubris rubs Lena’s ripcord in just the right way and it snaps, the baggage falling and spilling out onto the ground.

“That’s just the thing, Lex,” Lena bites. “You were always so good at seeing what I didn’t want you to see, that you always missed what I _did_ want you to see.”

“What does that mean?” Lex frowns.

“It means you just had me sit through the most miserable dinner of my life, just to prove yourself right,” Lena seethes. “And considering our family, that’s saying something.”

Lex wisely stays silent, an uncertain look sinking in. If Lena was naïve enough, she’d almost say he looked a tad bit apologetic too.

“If you were clever enough to realize Kara and I were—“ Lena falters for a moment. “You should’ve been able to recognize why I’ve been an absolute bitch this whole week. Why would I voluntarily come back to Metropolis? I hate it here.”

_Just now slightly less than I hate being in National City_ , Lena thinks.

Lex looks over at her but his vision has retreated into his skull to internally calculate something.

Lena rubs her brow. “God, I needed you tonight, Lex, but you were too focused on yourself to even notice. Kara and I are through.”

Lex twists the thick ring on his finger; it was once Lionel’s. Lena’s never been sure why he wears it, but it’s always there.

“You always see things from your perspective, exclusively,” Lena continues. “And did you know; Kara’s the _only_ person that’s ever defended me to Mother? I know you two have your own terrible dynamic but not once have you ever been the big brother I needed when it comes to her.”

Lex frowns, actually showing genuine human emotion on his face. “I see.”

He doesn’t move or speak for a little while. Lena’s never actually seen him this quiet without a project, chess board, or a basketball game in front of him.

It’s a little unnerving.

Lena lets out a deep sigh. “Look, I’m sorry for getting short with you at dinner. It was unfair to expect you to know what had transpired between Kara and I.”

“No, it’s …” Lex trails off. He doesn’t finish the sentence but his apologetic tone hangs in the air, thick as fog. 

They don’t talk again until late that night, back in the Manor. Lex sulks up to Lena’s bedroom, where’s she back to reading again, and he takes a tentative half-step in through the doorway.

“I just spoke to Jess,” Lex informs her. “Our flight leaves at nine-AM sharp tomorrow. We should drop you off in National City around noon.”

Lex is taking the plane on a business trip to Japan in the morning. Knowing Lena’s aversion to flying, he offered to drop her off on the way, so she wouldn’t have to fly back commercial. It’s a luxury she’s grateful for, even if it puts her back in National City a day early.

“Thank you.”

There’s the sound of Lex turning on his heel and taking a few steps down the hall, only to backpedal.

“Lena?” Lex reappears in the doorway, an odd look on his face that Lena can’t place.

“What, Lex?” Lena sighs.

“When you pack,” Lex says slowly. “Think sentimentally. It’ll be nice to have some more of your important things in National City.”

“What, are you going to burn the house down or something?” Lena cocks an inquisitive eyebrow. This exchange is a bit bizarre and well-outside their usual conversational topics.

“No, arson is too uninspired,” Lex waves a dismissive hand. “Don’t then; it was just a thought. Goodnight, Princess.”

“Goodnight, Lex,” Lena mumbles after him.

What the hell?

She’s unsettled and nostalgic enough afterward that she does actually pack a few extra books and trinkets, but it’s all forgotten the next morning when the dread of flying sets in. 

They’re almost to the airstrip when Lena’s phone glows with a news notification, alerting her that NCU did in fact win their conference finals last night. Suddenly, her brain is filled with thoughts of Kara Danvers once more.

Thoughts that now make her blood boil.

She quickly dismisses the banner before Lex sees; she also couldn’t fucking care less what the NCU basketball team is up to.

Lex seems to pick up on her distress.

“Benzo?” Lex offers, pulling out a small bottle from his inner suit coat pocket.

Lena looks at it for a second longer than she should. 

“No, thank you,” she decides. She’s expended a fair amount of willpower and energy to avoid picking up that particular family vice, and she won’t let that hard work be squandered, even now.

“Suit yourself,” Lex shrugs, slipping it back in.

Once they’re on board, Lex pops one of the pills and he's halfway to faded in no time. It’s not that he’s afraid of flying like Lena, it’s just that he can’t stand to be so bored for the next five-something hours without some sort of pharmaceutical intervention.

She doesn’t goad him for taking one himself, this time; she’s the reason he’s flying so early in the morning. Usually Lex flies exclusively during the afternoons — a preference brought about by a combination of hangovers and basketball game air-times — and he usually livestreams a game during the flight to keep his mind occupied. 

But since he doesn’t have that stimulus for his overactive brain this morning, he has to resort to getting high then. Lena knows it's a concession on his end, so she takes it as an apology for the dinner with the Kents.

The gesture does mean something to her, even if small and misguided.

But as the plane begins its terrifying ascent into the atmosphere, Lena is left to cope by herself, and she stops feeling so compassionate. The turbulence is extra rough this morning and Lena lacks any sort of positive fixation.

It makes her miss Kara even more.

Kara — who _lied_ to her.

That memory sends a new wave of anger throughout her entire body. It’s like cyanide pulsing through her veins, and it transforms her into an entity of wrath.

Lena looks down at her fingers, currently dug into her armrests, and she suddenly wishes it was Kara’s flesh under her punishing nails.

Kara Danvers left her and lied to her about why. Kara Danvers got her to trust and then shattered it. Kara Danvers made Lena care for her and then _destroyed_ her.

So Lena makes a resolution.

She’s going to get Kara to confess her sins at Lena’s altar, and Lena will meet it with fury instead of forgiveness, and she will have blood for blood.

Kara Danvers hurt her, and now she’s going to show Kara exactly what it feels like.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 5272 = k-a-r-a  
> Benzo = benzodiazepine (class of sedatives)
> 
> Why am I doing it this way? Because, in my opinion, realistic love is never a perfect run through. Everything between these two will work out just fine, but I wanted to give them a chance to embrace each other with their faults displayed, not hidden. And then we’ll get to the fluff!


	16. collateral damage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damage is always collateral.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your wonderful support. As promised, Angst Part 2, with a little hope for dessert …
> 
> Again, a big thank you to IcarusAndHerSun for the beta read!

* * *

The conference finals end 81-74 for NCU.

Even though most of the school population is still away for break, it’s far from a quiet Saturday night at Al’s. The Comets are there in full-force; the women’s team with their third-straight conference finals victory (at one point, there are a few chants of ‘dynasty’ followed by the chugging of beer). The men’s team is there too — licking their wounds from a loss in their own finals on a questionable reffing call — but they’re certain to get a bid to the national tournament, so the mood’s still light. 

That’s about the only thing that is though; the drinks are strong, the patrons loud and rowdy, and the air thick with electric excitement.

Kara should be having a great time.

She wants to be having a great time.

But there’s something missing. She fake-smiles her way through several animated conversations and a few drinking games, making the idle cheering sounds expected of her whenever the rest of the group does. She can’t even sit down in their usual booth before Lucy is nipping at her heels to get up and join in the fun. Even when she goes to the bathroom for a breather, there’s people that want to chat.

She doesn’t have the energy for it. Her anger has left her drained, and they won’t play another basketball game until the national tournament starts, the weekend after next. So she’s just left without a suitable focus — tired and guilty and missing Lena.

Fuck …

Maybe a drink will help. It’s better than hopeless, errant pining anyways.

“Can I get another melon sour?” Kara asks, leaning on the bar counter. She shoots William a smile to go along with it, but the one he returns looks about as unenthusiastic as Kara feels.

“Actually, those are for you,” William informs her, pointing at a long row of freshly-poured shots running along the bar. “And your teammates.”

“Did someone order these?” Kara frowns in confusion at the small horde of glasses. Kara takes a whiff — it’s tequila for sure.

“They were sent for you,” William sets the tequila fifth back down in it’s rack; it’s almost empty now.

“Who are these from?” Kara asks him.

“She said to say your ‘hot girl bummer’.”

Kara’s heart catches in her chest.

Lena’s here?

Kara’s eyes rake all over the bar in a desperate, panicked search. Lena’s not in her usual spot, but she must be here, she must be.

Kara opens her mouth to ask William where she is when Mike cuts her off.

“I’m sorry, are those for us?” Mike peers over Kara’s shoulder. “Kara bought shots!”

Before Kara can respond, Mike’s shouting back at their friends.

“Everyone get over here!” Mike yells. He wraps an elbow over the top plane of Kara’s chest and pulls her back against his torso in a friendly jostle. “Kara Danvers, our Supergirl!”

Kara doesn’t mind the affection usually but Mike is currently impeding her frantic hunt, so she bumps back up against him to get him to let go, but there’s nowhere to go. Like bees to the hive, there are hands all over reaching for the tequila. Kara’s basically stuck in a cluster of her friends and teammates now, so she might as well embrace it. 

She lets out a deep exhale, raises a shot glass for herself, and initiates one of their classic team chants (revised and repurposed for nights like these).

“1-2-3-4,” Kara calls out, raising a fist in the air. “Comets sweep the fuckin’ floor.”

“Comets sweep the _fuckin’_ floor!” comes the chorus of cheers and roars.

Kara looks down at the shot and shoots it back.

As the liquid burns down her throat, she meets a gaze of green fire.

Lena!

There she is, tucked into the far dark corner of the bar right near the door. She’s dressed in a long coat, too nice to imply she plans to stay long, with her arms crossed over her chest and a tumbler of scotch in her hand.

Mike’s arm around Kara’s collarbone suddenly feels like a wire trap, and Lena regards her like a wolf with nothing but contempt and an empty stomach.

“Hey,” Kara knocks a fist against Mike’s arm and it slides away. “I’ll be right back. Get another game of Thumper going.”

“Okay,” Mike whoops, stepping back a half-step to give Kara a decent chance of weaving out from the cluster of bodies. “Let’s go — Thumper! Why do we play?”

There’s the faint answer of ‘to get fucked up!’, but the adrenaline is ringing too loudly in Kara’s ears for it to register, and she finally breaks out of the drunken huddle of bodies into cooler air. 

Kara makes her way across the bar over to Lena, unaware in her path, like a lamb headed to slaughter. The raven-haired woman is leaning up against the bar top now, hidden in the shadows.

“Hi,” Kara exhales. It’s about the only word she can muster up with Lena’s piercing green eyes on her.

She’s … intimidating.

“ _Danvers_.”

Kara flinches slightly at the hostile tone by which Lena speaks her name. It’s been a very long time since she’s heard it said like that.

“I-I didn’t expect to see you tonight. I didn’t realize you were back in town,” Kara’s forehead crinkles.

“A change of plans,” Lena states, fierce red lips pressed tight. She looks pissed to even be sharing the same air as Kara right now, and the blonde isn’t exactly sure why. She would’ve expected uncomfortable or unsure, like she herself feels, but there’s not even a speck of that in Lena’s eyes.

She looks determined.

“William said you sent over the tequila,” Kara says, but it’s more a question in search of explanation.

“I did,” Lena gives her a wicked smile, revealing the sharp edges of her teeth. “I heard about the finals; the team must be very excited to move forward.”

“We are,” Kara says softly. “Thank you, but you didn’t have to do that.”

“Nonsense, it’s a celebration. A national stage will certainly give you a chance to inflate your stock,” Lena bites. “For the draft, that is.”

Kara swallows roughly, shifting from one foot to another. She can’t quite meet Lena’s eyes now.

“Right,” Kara says. “Did you, uh, watch any of the tournament?”

“Oh, absolutely not,” Lena laughs sharply. It’s not a real laugh and it stings Kara’s ears. “I had no reason to.”

“Oh,” Kara falters. “Well, I can’t really take any credit for the wins, that was all the rest of the team. I was kind of playing like shit for most of it.”

“How humble you are,” Lena deadpans. “I imagine whatever organization drafts you will be lucky to have a player with such admirable qualities. Respectful, hard-working, _honest_.”

That’s nails-on-a-chalkboard to hear and Kara’s heart skips a beat.

“Congratulations, _draft pick_ ,” Lena practically hisses, raising her glass up. Her words are laced with so much venom it’s a wonder Kara survives. “Drinks on me.”

It really should be a red light that Lena’s said the word ‘draft’ three times in under a minute, but Kara just barrels forward unaware. 

Lena closes her eyes and shoots back the remainder of her scotch. It’s in the absence of her enchanting eyes that Kara finds the strength to speak.

“About that,” Kara gulps. “I-I’m … I’m not entering the draft. I’m gonna get my degree first.”

She braces herself for the reaction, but all Lena does is slowly lower her glass until it rests on the counter with a solemn clink.

“Oh, I already heard,” Lena sucks her teeth. “When I was back in Metropolis, Lex and I had a lovely dinner with Clark and Lois.”

“Clark and Lois?” Kara frowns. “Wait, I thought you went to Empire City with Jack?”

“No, I was very much in Metropolis,” Lena says. “And I had a _very interesting_ conversation about you.”

Oh, _fuck_.

“I’m sorry, Lena, I can explain—”

“No, you can’t,” Lena states, backing away towards the exit. “There’s no point. You _lied_ to me, Kara. Consciously and intentionally.”

“Lena, wait—” 

Kara chases after her.

“I don’t fucking care what your excuse is, Kara.”

“Lena, please just—”

Lena pushes through the door of Al’s, out onto the sidewalk. It’s beautiful outside, truly. Cold but not unpleasantly so, crisp refreshing air, and the stars shine brighter than usual above them — it only makes the whole thing even more heartbreaking.

They’re only standing several feet apart, but it might as well be miles upon miles.

“Lena, stop!” Kara demands.

Apparently that is _not_ the right thing to say, as Lena whips around almost ready to breath fire.

“You really are so arrogant,” Lena accuses, shaking her head. “I used to think you were a fool, but now I realize, that’s what I’ve been this entire time.”

“Lena, you’re not a fool,” Kara frowns severely. She takes a step closer, and Lena takes a step back. “You are—”

“Do _not_ tell me what I am, Kara Danvers,” Lena snaps, pointing an accusatory finger at Kara. “ _I let you in_. Against all my better judgment, against everything in my past that told me not to … but _you_ didn’t extend the same courtesy. _You_ didn’t let me in.”

“Lena …”

“I wasn’t looking for this,” Lena hisses. “I didn’t want to be subjected to your warmth and your kindness, and I didn’t want you to come in and break down my walls bit by bit.”

Kara can feel the cold wetness begin to flood her eyes, the lump amassing in her throat. The alcohol coursing through her veins only seems to magnify every gut-wrenching sensation.

“I told you my secrets; I confided in you!” Lena’s voice is growing louder in her anguish. “You knew everyone I cared about had lied to me and left me, and yet you did the _same_ exact thing. I practically begged you not to do it — _you told me you wouldn’t_ — and yet you did it anyway.”

Nine terrible words rattle around Kara’s mind, “ _you don’t have to worry about that with me”._ A promise she shouldn’t have made, anchored to the still-tender scar hidden along her hairline. 

“Tell me,” Lena challenges. “Tell me the real reason why.”

Kara’s mouth opens, but no words come out at first, so her lips just tremble over the open air. It’s a monumentally difficult hurdle Kara now faces, one she’s never quite been able to clear. Because if she does admit her feelings for Lena, then it’s only a matter of time before they have to have _that_ conversation, and Kara’s never ever done it before. She doesn’t know how to.

Does she tell Lena the truth? Would Lena even hear her if she did? Can she do it?

She can’t. Her feelings are hers alone to bear.

“I … I can’t tell you.”

Like any apex predator or scorned lover, Lena then goes straight for the jugular.

“Tell me, Kara,” Lena seizes the throne. “Which is more exhausting: being _Supergirl_ , the school’s darling basketball star who never disappoints … or Kara Danvers, who can’t do anything but?”

_Ouch._

It’s the vocalization of an implicit understanding Kara suspected they both shared, a confirmation of Kara’s insecurities, and it runs from her ears to her heart like a furious poison, paralyzing her.

“You preach about trust, about relying on others,” Lena states, level and cold again. Her voice is bone-chilling. “Yet you hide behind lies because you don’t have the spine to keep you standing. If you wanted us to be done; you should have just fucking said so. At least then I’d still have respect for you.”

Kara recoils like Lena just slapped her. “Lena, I—”

“You’re constantly trying to _save_ everyone, even if they don’t want to be saved,” Lena seethes. “When the reality of it is that you’re so full of hubris and self-delusion to take your own advice. You really do have a god complex.”

Kara never knew which was worse; to cage up her own heart, or to have someone else rip it free. 

Until now.

“Goodbye, Danvers,” Lena says curtly. “Fuck you.”

This is how it ends. This is how it was always destined to end, right? Like two solar bodies, drawn inevitably towards each other, they have met and merged in a cosmic-level supernova, taking everything in the universe with them.

Damage is always collateral.

“Yeah? Well, fuck you too, Luthor.”

* * *

And just like that, Kara Danvers and Lena Luthor hate each other again.

It’s a raging flame and it’s consuming them both.

They’re too stubborn and dramatic and self-destructive to step aside and put out the flames, but they can’t walk away and leave it to smolder out either. So it burns on.

But it’s worse this time — oh, it’s _much_ worse — because Kara can’t actually hate her anymore.

Because Lena’s not the one to blame for it.

Kara is.

Kara, who had the brilliant idea to lie to Lena. Kara, who lacked the fortitude to follow-through when Lena asked her to bare her throat and _trust_. Lena, who didn’t pull any of her punches when she stripped Kara of her self-delusion and her excuses, justifiable or not.

And Kara deserves it all, every drop of guilt coursing through her veins like glass nails.

The night of their collateral damage, Kara reverts back to angry. She drinks. She silently seethes. She drinks some more. She burns like a wicked flame until she runs out of tinder and Alex and Maggie have to drag her drunk ass home. Sunday is lost mainly to moping and a hangover; her body certainly didn’t appreciate the additional strain whilst recovering from a grueling week of high-intensity games.

When Monday rises, Kara thinks she’s adjusted to the new feeling now. It’s just a part of her; she’ll learn to live with it as all humans do.

But then she nearly walks right into Lena Luthor’s car in the school parking lot. 

The guilt is numbing.

It’s only a few feet away from her, idling in the open lane, angrily close to the bumper of Mike’s freshly-parked mustang.

She can hardly see Lena’s eyes through the tinted windshield (and she _hates_ that), but she knows they’re making direct eye contact. She can feel it in the shiver that runs down her spine. The spine that may or may not actually exist, according to Lena.

She’s transfixed in that moment. The terror, the pain, the utter _relief_ of being close to Lena again—

“Kara!” Mike calls back to her, breaking through her thoughts. “You comin’?”

“Yeah, sorry,” Kara replies, shaking the thoughts out of her head. She pushes her sunglasses back up by the bridge, then turns sharply on her heel to catch up with her friend. They head off towards their respective classes, walking shoulder-to-shoulder.

“So …” Mike drawls. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Talk about what?” Kara plays dumb, adjusting the strap of her backpack.

“The parking lot,” Mike says. “Did you know that car?”

“No,” Kara grumbles.

“Are you sure?” Mike frowns. “Because it seemed like y—”

“—Drop it, Mike, please,” Kara sighs. He was the one friend who wasn’t actively interrogating her about her newfound angst and she desperately needed it to stay that way. She just couldn’t handle anymore.

“Okay,” he concedes. “But if you want to talk … I’ve been reading some mental health books lately.”

Kara’s forehead crinkles. “Since when do you care about mental health?”

“I had to go to this seminar about it, and I thought it was gonna be stupid like all the other ones, but it was actually really interesting,” Mike supplies. “It seems really important.”

“But _you_ care about mental health now?” Kara repeats. “Your idea of getting over Imra was to see how many girls you could hook up with in one night.”

“The answer was three,” Mike brags instinctively. “Hey, no, don’t give me that look — I used protection each time!”

“You're gross and you’re literally proving my point for me,” Kara grimaces. “There’s no way I can take advice from you with _that_ fresh in my mind.”

“Hey, it was a toxic coping strategy that I was using to mask my own insecurities, and I know that now,” Mike says. “Look, Kara, I don’t know what you’re going through, and I won’t pretend to be qualified enough to give good advice, but this past year I’ve never seen you so happy. You’ve been _so_ happy. And now you’re not.”

“That’s … an exaggeration,” Kara scoffs.

“Not really,” Mike shakes his head. “Before Spring Break, you were constantly singing, you were always in a good mood — the sunlight practically followed you around. Your game’s been on fire too. You’ve been one of the best versions of you I’ve seen yet.”

“Best versions?”

“It was in the seminar,” Mike explains. “We all contain multitudes. And whatever’s been bothering you, it’s bringing out one of your … worse versions. Just like the breakup with Imra did for me.”

Breakup.

That’s just it, isn’t it?

Kara and Lena broke up. Kara’s been trying so hard to pretend like that wasn’t what it was, that they weren’t that far deep into it.

But they were.

“I fucked up, Mike,” Kara says softly, still gathering the energy to finish her thoughts out loud.

Mike gives her a gentle look; warm brown eyes full of concern. His lips are drawn into a tight frown under the stubble of his breakup-beard. In that moment, Kara knows she can confide in him. For all his flaws, it’s _this_ Mike that Kara trusts with her life, this Mike that holds a piece of her heart akin to a brother.

What’s left of it, anyways.

“What happened?” comes his tender question.

“You know how I’ve had a fuck buddy all year?” Kara asks.

Mike nods. “Vaguely …” 

His voice is a little too high-pitched for Kara to believe his awareness was just vague. Knowing Lucy, she probably had roped everyone into trying to figure out who exactly Kara’s ‘hot girl bummer’ was.

But it doesn’t matter anymore.

“It was Lena Luthor.”

Mike grimaces as his hand slaps against his wallet, but he quickly hides it. “Lena Luthor? I thought you two didn’t get along?”

“We didn’t …” Kara admits. With a rueful tone, she corrects herself, “I guess we don’t again. But for a little while, we were actually kind of friends.”

“Just friends?” Mike pokes a hole through her paper wall.

“No,” Kara sighs. “No, it was more than that. I caught feelings for her. I almost told her too, but before I did, she made it clear that she would never feel that way about me, so I broke things off.”

“I’m sorry, Kara,” Mike sets a friendly arm across the back of her shoulders and pulls her to his side.

“You shouldn’t be. I don’t deserve it,” Kara says in her best self-deprecating tone. She’s gotten rather good at it recently. “When I broke things off with Lena, I lied to her about why — I mean, it’s not like I could tell her the truth — so I told her I was gonna declare for the draft.”

Saying it out loud … it’s like poison in her throat, eating at her from inside-out.

“The ‘WBL draft?” Mike’s eyebrows knit together. “Wait, are you—”

“—No,” Kara says sharply. “No and Lena found out.”

“Oh,” Mike winces. “Have you two talked?”

“Uh, ‘talked’ is not exactly the word I would use,” Kara grumbles. “She was the one who bought those tequila shots at Al’s. When I went over to thank her and talk, she told me she knew I had lied to her. It’s … a big deal to her. She’s got a lot of baggage from other people lying to her, and so when I did it too, it _really_ hurt her.”

“And you’re blaming yourself now,” Mike states. He doesn’t need to guess, and Kara knows it.

“Yeah.”

“So how did things end off between you two?” Mike asks.

Kara winces. “Not great. She asked me for the real reason why I broke things off, but I still couldn’t tell her. We ended up shouting at each other on the street — well, Lena did most of the shouting — but basically it ended with a few ‘fuck yous’ on both ends.”

Mike lets out a slow, pained exhale. “Ouch.”

“Yeah, that’s the anthem,” Kara agrees.

“So where does that leave you feeling, Kara?” Mike asks.

“Like I should probably go back to therapy,” Kara exhales. “I think Alex is about ready to drag me there herself, and Lucy’s gonna help her.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that you know,” Mike reminds her. “It’s just like goin’ to the doc’s, but for your brain.”

“I know,” Kara whines. “But I just … I thought I got to be done, you know? I did it for so long after my parents, I thought I finally got to be finished.”

Mike gives her a sympathetic smile. “We’re never really finished, you know. Progress isn’t linear.”

Isn’t that the truth? Kara knows it’s true … on the court, in the weight room, and even, admittedly, with this too.

“I’ve been going, actually,” Mike volunteers. “After Imra. And you’re the reason why, Kara; you made me realize it’s okay to ask others for help. Do you remember what you said to me?”

Kara gives a faint, nostalgic smile. “Asking for help doesn’t make you weak; it makes you stronger because you don’t have to fight every battle alone.”

“And? What else?”

Kara chuckles. “And if you’re gonna grow a breakup-beard, fix your mustache.”

Mike smiles. “Well, I’ve since fixed my mustache … I think it’s time for you to fix yours too, metaphorically.”

Kara gives him an affectionate shake of her head. “I don’t like it when you’re less of a hot mess than me.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Mike lets out a conspiratorial chuckle, “It’s a marathon, not a race. I’m sure you’ll be back to ‘golden child’ in no-time. Besides, a little bit of hot mess keeps things fun — I’m always the life of the party.”

“Oh, you wish,” Kara teases. “If by ‘life of the party’ you mean ‘first one passed out on the sidewalk’.”

“Hey, that was one time!” Mike protests, in good spirits.

“No, it was six times,” Kara corrects. “I mean, really, how many more times can you do that before the cops notice?”

“Oh, at least another six,” Mike gives a smug jerk of his head. “Besides, no one would dare arrest a senator’s son.”

Kara rolls her eyes. “Ugh, could you act any more privileged right now?”

“Probably,” Mike laughs. “Want to see me try?”

“Absolutely not.”

The joking fades as Mike comes to a halt, using his thumb to gesture to the building to his side. “This is my class. You gonna be okay?” 

Mike tilts his head down to make sure their eyes meet fully, restoring the moment of vulnerability they had just shared.

No.

Maybe?

Eventually.

“Yeah,” Kara accepts. “I will be. Thanks, Mike.”

“Anything for you, Kara,” he says, and they part ways with a smile.

Kara takes a deep breath, yanking her backpack straps downwards to anchor her. She pulls her phone out of her pocket and shoots a quick text to J'onn to ask for Hank’s number. With one final glance over her shoulder, back in the direction of the parking lot, she stands straight and begins to walk forward once more.

* * *

Lena Luthor is an incredibly proficient liar.

It’s one of the perks of growing up a Luthor. Deceit and deception become second-hand, as easy as breathing.

Which is why Lena has always fiercely tried to avoid overusing this particular skill set of hers.

But the fact remains, Lena Luthor is a great liar — especially when it's to herself.

She was right to yell at Kara, to call her out on all her hollow rhetoric and bullshit. She was even so benevolent to give Kara a chance to come clean, to tell Lena the truth this time, and the blonde practically spat down at her feet.

Kara had denied her the truth — the basest level of respect — and Lena had been unable to enact her wrath in full.

Sure, Kara didn’t know that even if she had been honest, Lena would’ve just taken it and somehow weaponized it as the instrument of her execution — but Kara didn’t know that and yet she didn’t beg forgiveness. Lena’s not sure what hurt more; the initial lie or the stalwart resolution to hide the truth.

So Kara Danvers doesn’t deserve her sympathy anymore.

Lena Luthor has no intention of ever extending her grace again. Her faith. Her trust. She won’t let Kara Danvers hurt her again.

Her burnt and blackened heart remains chambered behind cold, platinum walls.

But no wall is impenetrable.

Of all things, it’s the parking lot that breaks Lena.

There’s only one open spot left, and it’s a race between her and the other car circling the lot like a vulture.

She doesn’t make it in time. The red mustang cuts her off with a base disregard for the well-being of either of their expensive cars (though Lena’s is significantly more so). Lena fumes so hard it’s a wonder the pressure doesn’t blow the roof off of her car, and she glares a hole into the cherry bumper, cursing out the douchebag driving around with the custom plate “MONEYEL”.

But that’s not what breaks her, no, it’s what happens after.

Both the driver’s and passenger’s doors open in smug satisfaction, secure in their parking space. Lena glares at the driver first, a guy with a head of gelled brown hair and a leather jacket, then the passenger. She’s got blonde hair pulled back in a low messy bun, a NCU Basketball-branded backpack, and a sherpa-lined jean jacket that makes Lena’s heart sink.

It’s _Kara fucking Danvers_ , and Lena is so fucking _tired_ of this happening.

The doors slam shut and they both walk out, Kara stopping abruptly at the head of Lena’s car. Kara’s got sunglasses on so Lena can’t see her eyes (and she _hates_ that), but it’s clear there’s a moment of recognition between them both.

Yet Kara doesn’t react. There’s no infuriatingly apologetic smile, there’s no chin tilt of neutral recognition, there’s no arrogant middle finger brandished. It’s just absolute indifference — like Lena might as well be a stranger.

It shatters her soul.

The driver — who Lena now recognizes as Mike — turns around and calls back to Kara. It stirs the woman from her detached paralysis and she shakes her head like a wet dog. Afterwards, Kara pushes the bridge of her sunglasses back up her nose, revealing a painfully pale band of skin over her wrist. 

A watch tan.

Then Kara turns her back to Lena and just … walks away. Like it’s nothing.

And Lena can’t do it anymore. She can’t keep it all inside.

She’s practically gasping for air, her heart weeping, her lips trembling. Hurried fingers type on the dashboard screen and all of a sudden the car’s phone line is ringing.

“Hey, love,” Jack answers. “You done avoiding me yet?”

“I-I’m sorry, Jack, I know I’ve been a bad friend,” Lena heaves. “I’ve been … going through something.”

“Penny for your thoughts?” his voice calls.

Lena takes a deep breath, gripping her steering wheel tight, and tells him the truth.

“Kara and I are through.”

For the first time in her life — in favor of crying over Jack’s stash of wine — Lena Luthor voluntarily skips class.

* * *

Lena Luthor doesn’t fear anyone.

Not explicitly anyways.

Yet there’s something about Alex Danvers that makes her bones feel like paper. Maybe it’s the constant stoic look that makes it impossible to tell what the woman is thinking. She borders on cold, which Lena is well-acquainted with. Or maybe it's her precise, calculating mannerisms; Lena has a feeling nothing goes unseen under her eyes.

Which is why the fact that Alex Danvers is her new lab partner for the next three hours means Lena’s now living in her own personal hell.

It’s a gift from the cruel hand of fate. Alex isn’t even supposed to be in this lab section usually, but thanks to a scheduling conflict from basketball, she’s here today — and the final kiss of death comes from the random number generator that pairs them together.

A three hour lab. With Kara's sister. Who knows exactly what they just spent the past six months doing. And also likely knows what they’re now _not_ doing.

The only fact that keeps Lena from dying on the spot is the TA’s promise that this week’s lab is a quick one.

It doesn’t work out like that.

_Fuck you, universe_ , Lena swears, holding the broken elution column in her hand. _Have I not suffered enough?_

The answer is apparently not, because when they get everything re-set up to start again (the rest of the class has finished by now), the TA dips (swearing to be back in ‘just five minutes’) and Lena and Alex are left alone together (in the unbearable silence of the empty lab).

There’s something about the way Alex regards her that makes Lena feel like her skin is being peeled bare, and revealed beneath is her raw, scorched heart. Alex _has_ to know.

“Are you sure that’s the right buffer?” Alex asks, inspecting Lena’s every motion.

“Yes,” Lena clenches her jaw. “I labeled all the solvents before we started.”

“Right, that’s why I’m asking,” Alex says. “Because that says ‘eluent’ and I’m pretty sure we want the starting solvent.”

Shit, she’s right. Lena had gotten distracted in her thoughts and grabbed the wrong flask by mistake. 

Lena lets out a restrained sigh, exchanging it for the proper one. “Thank you.”

“No problem.”

Lena watches the liquid pour carefully into the packed glass column, but she can still feel Alex shift uncomfortably beside her.

Well, that makes two of them.

Out of the blue, Alex speaks again. But it’s not authoritative, or contemptuous, or scathing.

_It’s soft._

“It doesn’t have to be weird,” Alex offers slowly. “We know each other outside of our connection to Kara. We can just focus on the lab and prete—”

“Alex, while I appreciate that sentiment, I prefer painful honesty,” Lena abruptly states. “Pretending is great but it doesn’t change the fact that there are still about a thousand places I’d rather be right now, and enclosed in a small room with my mother is one of them, which is saying something.”

It’s true; Lena would take the demon she does know over the stranger she doesn’t.

“Yeah, Kara told me,” Alex mumbles.

Lena stills. “Kara told you what?”

“That your mom … kinda sucks,” Alex admits. She adjusts the column stopper nervously. “About the gay thing. I’m sorry.”

Oh, if Lena wasn’t already amazingly pissed, she would be after that.

“Kara should’ve kept her mouth shut.”

A defensive look flashes over Alex’s face. “Hey—”

“—I’m well aware of the truth to Kara’s words,” Lena cuts her off. “But she had no business discussing that with you.”

“She didn’t do it maliciously,” Alex explains. “She was trying to advocate for you. And no offense, but finding out my sister’s sleeping with the girl she’s hated for the past few years? That requires some explanation.”

Fair point, but not one Lena’s willing to concede.

“I’m not looking for an advocate, Danvers,” Lena says. “And I wasn’t aware Kara needed her hookups to be Alex-approved.”

“Oh, they have _definitely_ never been,” Alex says. “... but Kara says you’re different than how people think you are.”

“Aw, you two talk about me?” Lena sneers. It’s equal parts faux-amused and unimpressed. “I’m flattered.”

“Kara and I are sisters, so unfortunately for me, that’s part of the territory,” Alex says, her jaw set. “We don’t keep secrets.”

“Well,” Lena gives a bitter chuckle. “I’m glad there’s some grand exception for someone in Kara’s life.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Alex strips her gloves off, leaving them under the fume hood, and crosses her arms as best as she can in her lab coat.

“You don’t know?” Lena mocks, carefully pouring the next flask into the glass column. “I thought you two didn’t have any secrets?”

“We don’t, _now_ ,” Alex frowns. “But I’ve never seen Kara keep a secret like she did for you.”

“I’m afraid you’re overestimating her,” Lena bites. She strips off her own gloves and whips around to face Alex. “Is Kara declaring for the draft?”

“The draft?” Alex’s brows dip sharply downward. “No, she’s going to get her degree first.”

“Well,” Lena sets her jaw. “There’s your answer.”

“Kara told you she’s declaring?” Alex’s frown appears to be frozen onto her face. “Why?”

“I don’t have the faintest idea,” Lena sucks on her teeth. “Nor do I even care to know.”

Lie, that’s a big fucking lie.

“She’s not actually going to declare?” Alex mutters, more to herself than Lena. “Our mom’s gonna _kill_ her. Though she’s been such a terror the past two weeks, that sounds like some reckless decision she would make.”

“Hm,” Lena hums, as unsympathetic as possible. “Too much to handle?”

“No,” Alex defends. “Just … exhausting.”

“My condolences,” Lena states, but it’s very insincere. “No, she’s not actually declaring. Kara confirmed it herself Saturday, so I doubt you’ll become an only-child in the immediate future.”

“Oh,” Alex says, the tension in her shoulders slowly fading.

They busy themselves with completing the rest of the lab for a while, until Alex feels bold enough to break the silence.

“So what happened with you and Kara?” Alex asks softly.

“She really didn’t tell you?” Lena finds that impossible to believe; Alex already knew they were sleeping together. And there were no secrets between the Danvers’ sisters, were there?

“Kinda …” Alex elaborates, a dark look over her face. “She’s not really being … forthcoming recently.”

“You’re worried about her,” Lena realizes.

“Yeah,” Alex admits. “But after seeing you, I’m not sure which one of you is worse-off.”

“You don't have to pretend to care about my well-being just for information, Alex,” Lena states.

“I’m not pretending,” Alex’s brow wrinkles earnestly, and in that moment she looks so much like Kara that it _hurts_. “Look, Lena, you don’t actually seem that bad. Sure, your family sucks, and it gets on my nerves how you skew every damn exam curve, but my only real issue with you was that you hated Kara.”

_Hate, Alex_ , Lena thinks, but it’s equally if not more a reminder for herself. _Present tense again._

“I hope you’re not expecting me to apologize for my intelligence,” Lena states coldly. It’s like fucking boarding school all over.

“No, of course not, it’s who you are,” Alex shakes her head. “Besides, Kara finds it impressive.”

“My life’s mission,” Lena deadpans.

“That’s not what I meant. Look, Kara is … complicated,” Alex takes time to search for the right words, clearly dancing around something. “But she thinks very highly of you, despite whatever _this_ is that’s going on between you two. That’s enough for me to care too.”

“I’m flattered,” Lena deadpans once more, but this time she’s deeply unnerved inside. Alex Danvers is no one to her, a stranger, yet who is she to care about Lena’s well-being?

It only makes her immeasurably madder.

“How well do you know Kara?” Alex asks gently. They’re the same exact words Siobhan had spat at Lena, but they’re spoken so differently it might as well be a new language. “How much did she tell you?”

Lena’s not sure why she takes the bait. Maybe it’s the desire to fall into the protective, caring older-sibling aura that Alex Danvers seems to exude constantly. Maybe it’s just more self-destruction, albeit a slower and more gentler path.

“I know her less than I thought I did,” Lena admits ruefully. “And I was a fool to think I ever knew her in the first place. She’s told me a little about her family, but it was always … at an arm’s reach. But then when she put the necklace on me, I thought maybe—“

“—Wait,” Alex’s eyes pierce right into Lena’s soul. “Her necklace? You wore Kara’s necklace? The one with the gold chain and the ‘S’ shape?”

“Yes …” Lena answers slowly, unsure and unsettled by the intensity of Alex’s reaction.

“When?”

“Just once; at my mother’s fundraiser.”

Alex closes her agape jaw and blinks a few times, shaking her head. “Oh my god …” she mumbles. 

“What, Danvers?” Lena accuses. She _hates_ it when she doesn’t know something and it feels like she should.

“Nothing,” Alex says, hastily returning her features to normal. “Just surprised.”

Lena sees it plainly for the truthful lie it is, but she lets it go. The Danvers lie, it’s what they do (even if Luthors do it better).

“Can I ask — why Kara?” Alex looks at her expectantly.

Maybe it’s the fatigue, or the loneliness, or the exasperation, but Lena actually answers.

“Because she’s _Kara_ ,” Lena sighs. What does she have to lose at this point? “She’s charming, and considerate, and selfless. She’s … absolutely incredible.”

“You actually care about her,” Alex realizes, giving her a curious look.

“I do,” Lena inhales sharply. She wishes she didn't; it would really make her life a whole lot easier — but she does. 

She still cares about Kara, deeply. And Alex Danvers has managed to disarm her enough to admit to it. “I did.”

“Which is it?” Alex challenges. “Do or did?”

Lena gives her a stony glare. “It doesn’t matter. I’m sure Kara already told you what transpired during our last conversation, and that’s all I have to say.”

“You and I both know that’s not true,” Alex states. “I’m sure you’re feeling burned right now but—”

“Don’t presume to know anything about me,” Lena sucks on her teeth. “This is the longest conversation we’ve ever had outside of academics, and I can hardly imagine it’s been sufficiently informative to make that bold of a claim.”

Alex frowns, clearly taken aback but she hides it well. “Can I give you some advice?”

“I have a feeling you’re going to regardless of my answer,” Lena quips.

“Yeah, I am,” Alex admits, and it's unapologetic. “I’m an older sister; it’s my divine right. I’m not about to get in the middle of whatever warzone you and Kara have going on, but from my perspective, all I see are two stubborn people who are doing just about everything they can _besides_ talking to each other.”

_There’s no use,_ Lena wants to bite. _There’s nothing to actually be said._

Another lie.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Lena dismisses, making it clear with her fiery eyes she has no intention of doing so.

Alex lets out a long exhale through her nose. “Let’s just finish this so we can both leave,” she offers.

Now that’s something Lena can vehemently agree on. They do just that.

* * *

Kara tries. 

She tries to have fun, out at Al’s. It’s a Saturday night; it’s what's expected of her. It’s not just any Saturday out either; it’s the day after Alex’s birthday — which merits a celebration of its own accord (they did have cake at movie night yesterday though) — but it’s also the last weekend they have to go out before the start of the national tournament. If all goes well, the Comets will be spending the next three weekends on the road chasing that national championship title.

It’s a beginning as much as it is an end, and it’s a party through and through. Not quite as wild and electric as last weekend’s victory lap, but the school population is back in town, so things feel grander and more escalated.

Kara goes through the motions. She plays a round of pool with Winn, James, and Lucy, participates in a few of Mike’s drinking games, even dances with a few random girls. But none of them are the woman she wants, and when one of them starts pulling on her shirt a little too firmly, Kara bows out and hides in the friends’ regular booth.

She’s left alone for a little while; at peace with watching her friends have fun and live their nights in their own worlds. It’s oddly calming — to know the world keeps moving along. She finishes her drink while she decompresses, and just when she goes to get another, Alex slides into the booth across from her.

“Hey,” Alex gives her a soft smile. “You know this is supposed to be a party, right?”

“I know.” Kara looks over at her older sister. “Are you here to yell at me again?” 

“No,” Alex says simply. “Are you gonna stop avoiding me?”

“I wasn’t av—” Kara is cut off with a look from Alex. 

So … she might’ve been avoiding Alex a little. Or a lot. Leaving the apartment early in the morning before Alex got home from Maggie’s, getting rides to school from Mike instead, eating dinner over at Nia and Lucy’s place (a bit of an odd roommate combo initially, but a de facto pairing considering Nia’s meticulousness and Lucy’s militant cleanliness).

“Okay, maybe I was avoiding you a little,” Kara concedes.

“Yeah, I noticed. You hardly said a word at my birthday party yesterday,” Alex says. “And even more noticeably — you hardly had any cake.”

“I wasn’t hungry,” Kara mumbles, picking at the label of her beer.

“You’re still in a mood,” Alex observes.

“Obviously.”

“You might be unbelievably stubborn when you get like this,” Alex levies. “But I am still _way_ more headstrong than you. And I am not leaving this booth until you meet me halfway.”

Alex leans back in the booth, casually sipping her water. She’s got a full cup but Kara’s is painfully empty.

Kara sighs. This was inevitable, as love always is.

“So, you ready to talk about it yet?” Alex cocks her head to the side.

Kara’s shoulders sag in confirmation.

“I’m so sorry for what I said back at the hotel, Alex,” Kara swallows roughly, her eyes wet. “The drinking comment was a low-blow, and I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Alex accepts. “And there’s some truth to it, I‘ve come to accept that. I’m working on owning my flaws instead of fighting against them.”

Alex’s voice is pointed and it’s not lost on Kara. Those words are meant for her just as much, if not more.

“Point taken,” Kara says. “Actually … I went to Hank’s practice yesterday.”

Alex’s head jerks back in surprise. “You did? I thought you basically told J’onn to shove that idea up his ass.”

Kara winces. “I-I should’ve been more … open to his suggestion initially. But Mike talked some sense into me.”

“Mike?” Alex’s brows knit. “ _Mike_ gave you advice? The guy who just spent the past hour trying to talk James and Winn into getting matching lipstick ass-tats? ‘Bruht-tats’, he’s calling them.”

Kara lets out a little chuckle. “Yeah. Apparently, he’s been reading up on mental health stuff. He’s actually oddly knowledgeable about it now … ?”

“Huh,” Alex gives a considerate chuckle. “Didn’t see that character growth coming.”

“I don’t think anyone did.”

Alex gives Kara a tentative look. “How was it? I know it’s been a few years …”

“It was okay,” Kara admits. “I still don’t really feel like myself, but I guess it’ll take time.”

“It will,” Alex agrees. “In the meantime, I have some advice for you, if you’re ready to accept help now …”

Kara gives her an uncertain look, her breath caught in her chest. Is she ready?

“You’ve saved me from myself plenty of times,” Alex pleads. “Let me save you this once.”

Kara lets the breath go. “Okay. What is it?”

“You need to tell Lena how you feel about her.”

Woah, absolutely not. _Not_ after their last conversation. If it could even be called that.

“No way,” Kara declines, tone harsh. “And you should know me better than to suggest that.”

“I do know you,” Alex says. “You’re Kara Danvers. You’re human and you make mistakes but you never stop trying to do the right thing. And I get why you’re angry and hurt and scared of it, I do.”

Alex reaches across the table to grab and squeeze one of Kara’s hands. “You need to tell Lena the truth. Not for her — _for you_. I know you lied to her when you broke things off; you told her you were declaring for the draft, didn’t you?”

Oh.

“She said she didn’t want a relationship,” Kara states. “I had to tell her something. I’d make the same decision again. And again. It doesn't matter what reason I gave her.”

“I think it matters a lot to Lena,” Alex says. “And I think you know that.”

She does know that. It’s been deteriorating Kara from the inside-out for the past two weeks, after all.

“I’ll take your silence as agreement,” Alex says. “The fact that you lied to Lena is crushing you slowly and you need to drop the weight.”

Alex is right and Kara knows it.

“How can I possibly tell her now, Alex … ?” Kara’s head thumps back against the wooden back of the booth. “She _hates_ me.”

“Partially,” Alex admits. “But I don’t think that’s all of it. She wouldn’t be this mad if she didn't also care, one way or another.”

“I doubt it,” Kara mumbles. “If she cared, how could she say those things to me?”

Alex gives her a piercing look that immediately illuminates her hypocrisy.

Oh.

“I know about the necklace, Kara,” Alex says softly. “I know you let her wear it.”

Kara’s heart quakes with adrenaline as the pendant around her neck doubles in weight. “You do?”

“I had my make-up lab Thursday,” Alex explains. “Lena was there too; she was my lab partner. She mentioned you let her wear your necklace at the fundraiser date.”

It wasn't a date, but Kara doesn’t have the energy to make the correction again.

“I know what that means to you, Kara,” Alex says. They’ve been making eye contact the whole time, but there’s something profound to it now; they’re both several years deep in a shared memory.

The memory of the last time that golden crest sat over someone else’s heart — Alex’s, in the hospital waiting room, the day Jeremiah died. Kara had given it to her as a comfort and a promise; Alex might’ve lost one family member, but she would forever have another. It had been the formal beginning of an unbreakable bond.

“I don’t think I’m very good at this, Alex,” Kara sighs. “Talking with the therapist, it made me realize that _this_ — what happened with Lena and I — was the first time I’ve ever really started to open up to someone, in that way. And look how badly that turned out.”

“Look,” Alex squeezes Kara’s hand. “Love is hard. And messy. It has its ways of showing us our faults … and we don’t always make the right decision the first time. And sometimes that means we hurt people we care about. It happens. It’s what you do about it afterwards that matters.”

Kara gives Alex a look, drowning in emotions but with a small spark of newfound hope to guide her to shore.

“Go,” Alex tells her. “Go and tell her. If it doesn’t work, at least you tried. But if she was worth _that_ much to you, it’s worth a shot.”

Kara can’t speak, but she nods. Her eyes are wet with anticipation and her throat tight with emotion.

Alex stands first, and Kara throws herself into her sister’s offered hug. Kara finds the last of the confidence needed in Alex’s warm, solid arms.

“Go on,” Alex smiles softly. “And be careful.”

Kara returns the smile and leaves.

Her feet operate on autopilot, weaving through the twinkling city streets. Her jittery hands are shoved into her pockets as she moves along with purpose. It takes eternity and only a single second until she finds herself on the sidewalk outside Lena’s grandiose apartment building.

Kara stops to look up to the top floor, at the window she’d since figured out belonged to Lena’s apartment. The light’s on. She takes a deep breath to steel her bones and quiet the pounding of her heart.

The first footstep forward is the hardest.

* * *


	17. house of el

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the ashes will rise the last of the House of El.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so very much for the continued support! My never-ending gratitude to my beta reader, IcarusAndHerSun, for all the assistance. It's a long one, folks.
> 
> Warnings: discussions of deaths, alcoholism, and use of the phrase "pull trig/pull trigger" (intentionally inducing vomiting)

* * *

Lena’s still in the mood for divine retribution. 

Maybe even more so than last Saturday. Because, see, this time she’s done something unthinkably idiotic. She told Alex Danvers that she _cares_ about Kara.

Or that she did.

She’s not even really sure which one it is anymore.

(Or is she?)

All that aside, it was a moment of insane weakness and it’s left Lena enraged. 

And she can’t even deal with it right now, because what was supposed to be a nice (unhappy), quiet (broody) night-in has now been stolen from her — Andrea’s gotten a bit too drunk to stay out any longer and needs a rescue. 

(Lena’s nowhere close to sober either, but thankfully Andrea’s location pins her at a club only two blocks away, so Lena dutifully gets dressed and goes to save her astray friend.)

Barring any unforeseen emotional twists, Lena suspects she’ll end up confessing to Andrea about everything tonight: Kara, Lena’s brief coquetry with happiness, and the subsequent fallout that’s left her avoiding her friend for the past two weeks. Jack knows now, and it’s only a matter of time before Andrea does too. There’s rarely anywhere to hide on a drunken night.

That doesn’t mean Lena’s excited about it. Oh no, quite the opposite. She dreads the idea of anything that might remind her how close she was to having it all.

Lena keeps her head down as she shoots a text off to Andrea, idly walking into the elevator.

The elevator doors close and the hairs on Lena’s neck stand straight up. There’s already someone in the elevator. That’s never happened before, so to sate her curiosity and mild surprise, Lena glances up from her phone to determine the alien presence.

Unbelievable.

It’s _Kara fucking Danvers_ — and Lena’s ready to see the world burn.

“What are you doing here?” Lena’s voice is a low, gravelly growl. Her jaw is tensed and her throat tight as she stares forward. She doesn’t dare look at Kara again, her heart can’t take it.

If she still had one, that is.

“I needed to talk to you,” Kara says softly.

“I have nothing to say to you,” Lena states. “And apparently, I need to make a new addition to the building’s blacklist. How did you even get in here?”

Kara shifts nervously to her side, as if weighing her options before responding. It’s a test and they both know it.

“I … I bribed Henry with a burger to let me in,” Kara confesses, her voice going up a guilty octave. “His shift always starts before his wife gets home, so he usually doesn’t eat dinner. Please don’t get him fired; it’s not his fault. I promised him he wouldn’t get in trouble.”

There’s a thrum of affection in Lena’s chest and the irritation tensing every muscle in her body is forced to double in strength to compensate. 

“You shouldn’t make promises you’re incapable of keeping,” Lena jabs a finger into the ground-floor button. “But, no, I won’t have Henry fired.”

“Thank you.”

The elevator lurches and Lena’s stomach gets left somewhere on the penthouse floor, but the anger in her blood remains, resolute in its welcome sanctuary.

“If you’re here to talk — talk. Otherwise you’re just wasting air,” Lena snaps coldly, her reflection’s eyebrows rising in the golden-gilded decorative panel in front of her.

“Y-yeah,” Kara gulps. “I’m here to say: you were right … you let me in, but I didn’t let you in. Lena, I am so, so, sorry and I want to try to make it right.”

Lena scoffs. “A bit late for that, Danvers.”

“No,” Kara states, slamming her hand over _every single_ elevator floor button. 

Oh, Lena’s actually considering homicide now.

“No,” Kara reiterates. “It might be too late and I can accept that, but I still have to try.”

Lena doesn’t dignify that with a response. The elevator doors open with a chime at the next floor.

“For what it’s worth,” Kara gives a rueful chuckle as the doors close again. “I almost did declare, the night you yelled at me outside of Al’s. You were so furious, so _hurt_ , and it was all my fault. For a second there, I was drunk and … so guilty, that I was ready to make it so that it wasn’t a lie after all.”

Her voice gets unforgivably soft at the end and Lena tilts a defiant chin.

“I’m not asking you for a self-imposed exile,” Lena sucks her teeth. “Though considering you showed up at my doorstep, uninvited, I doubt you’d have the fortitude to maintain it.”

“If you never want to see me again after tonight, that’s how it’ll be,” Kara promises, her steely tone grating against Lena’s mask. “I don’t need to get drafted for that to happen.”

“I’m starting to wish you would be,” Lena hisses, the elevator doors opening again. “Then I wouldn’t have to deal with this insistent torture of yours any longer.”

Lena can feel Kara deflate beside her, the spatial displacement allowing room for even more tension to fill the elevator. The elevator doors seal them in like a tomb once more.

“You know, part of me wishes I had never taken you to meet Barry and Iris; then that night never would’ve happened,” Kara says, shaking her head. “Then maybe things would be different between us.”

In another world, they would be.

“That makes two of us,” Lena says, and it’s cold but unsettlingly honest.

Kara lets out a little snort under her breath as the elevator doors open. “You know, you’re not making this very easy.”

“Making what easy?”

“This!” Kara huffs. “I’m trying to tell you something, but you won’t even look at me.”

“Your ability to speak is entirely independent of my eyeline.”

Lena refuses to utter another word after that, and Kara either doesn’t know how to or can’t respond to Lena’s last blow. She can see just a fraction of Kara’s frown out of her peripheral vision and she gets a little kiss of bitter satisfaction from it.

The elevator doors open and close again, and that seems to be the catalyst Kara needs to regroup.

“I …” Kara starts, fumbling slightly. The temporary silence feels a bit like the pregnant pause before a dam bursting, threatening to drown them both. “I came here tonight to tell you the truth.”

Lena’s heart (the one that doesn’t exist anymore) skips a beat.

“I … I have a really hard time opening up to people,” Kara admits. She shrugs her shoulders back, as if to assume a state of faux-confidence. “If I start to feel vulnerable, I get defensive and I fight it. I push it away and shut it down … and that’s what I did with us.”

The elevator doors open again and there’s clearly air flowing in, but Lena doesn’t find any to inhale.

Kara swallows roughly, her lips twisted in anguish. “My name is Kara Danvers, but before that … my last name was El,” Kara explains. 

_Kara El Danvers_ , it clicks in Lena’s head. _It’s not a middle name_ — _it’s her_ **_name_**.

Finding her stride now, Kara begins to talk quicker, her lips twisting up into a nostalgic smile.

“I told you how my dad was a big fantasy nerd,” she says. “He used to call us ‘the House of El’, like we were some noble ruling family. It was ridiculous, but I always kind of liked it. It’s fun to say.”

Lena needs more kindling for her waning sacrificial pyre, and the incessant opening and closing of the elevator doors once again makes a suitable stopgap.

“I grew up in a place called Krypton, Alaska,” Kara says. Her voice is hoarser now. “It was the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen. So much snow and ice, like a cradle for the sunlight … and at night, you could see the stars so clearly, like a window to the galaxy.”

Lena doesn’t notice the elevator doors open this time. Or the many more times they will still.

“My favorite — my _absolute_ favorite time — was when we got the red sunsets,” Kara explains. “The whole sky would turn crimson and the snow would glow orange and it felt like being bathed in gold.”

Kara’s reverent tone paints a picture so beautiful, even Lena feels a bit nostalgic for it.

“Krypton was and forever will be my home, but … it’s gone now. It’s never going to be like I remember it again,” Kara says.

 _Why?_ hangs off the tip of Lena’s tongue, and she would die to know the answer.

“And you want to know why, don’t you?” Kara asks.

Oh, Lena’s never felt so unbearably _seen_.

“This is the problem I always have,” Kara says, and for a second, Lena’s left confused. “When it comes to my love-life. I learned it the hard way the first time with Leslie. See, the longer you’re with someone, there becomes an expectation to learn each other. Leslie wanted to know about my past, about where I came from, about my parents … and I couldn’t do it.”

Kara swallows so roughly Lena worries she might’ve choked.

“I couldn’t open up to her,” Kara says. “I cared about her and I know it was expected of me, but I couldn’t do it. So I broke things off. And then with James, I thought maybe it would be easier with someone who was a friend first, someone who’d lost a parent too — but it didn’t work either.”

Lena concedes a small nod of acknowledgment. Sure, it’s a little different for everyone, but she gets what it’s like for something to _just not work_. It’s aggravating; the frustration, the confusion, the doubt … the broken feeling.

“So I gave up on trying to make things work,” Kara tells her. “I convinced myself that I was better on my own. I had care and companionship from my family and friends; I didn’t _need_ romantic love, no matter how I might've craved it. And occasionally, if I got lonely, it wasn’t exactly hard to find someone to hookup with — and there was no commitment, no pressure involved.”

Ah, so _that’s_ what motivates the fuckboy behavior.

“Siobhan was my first one-night stand that turned into more,” Kara sighs. Lena might just be projecting, but it sounds full of regret. “It was the timing. Alex and Maggie started to get inseparable, and I got really lonely. I love them both and I’m so happy for them, but it sucks coming home to an empty apartment day after day.”

That hits Lena a little too close to home.

“So I kept messing around with Siobhan,” Kara explains. “But one night, I was a little too drunk and half-asleep and I accidentally called her ‘babe’. It just slipped out. And after that, she got really pushy about making things between us more than just fuck buddies.”

“Why didn’t you?” Lena challenges. She needs to know.

“I just didn’t like her like that,” Kara shrugs. “She’s not a good person; she’s entitled, manipulative, and spiteful.”

 _Everything I am_ , Lena assumes. Her moment of recognition only adds oil into the fire inside.

“It’s a Rich Bitch thing,” Lena deadpans, cocking her head. “It’s the prerequisite for the annual membership card.”

“Very funny,” Kara says, making it clear that it’s _not_ to her.

“I’m glad you think so, _darling_ ,” Lena retorts.

“You’re not a Rich Bitch, Lena,” Kara informs her, and it’s infuriating. “No matter how much you may try and act like one.”

“You—”

“—know nothing about you,” Kara sighs, unimpressed. “Yeah, I heard.”

Lena’s actually stunned silent and she _hates_ that.

“It wasn’t like that with you,” Kara says softly. Out of the corner of her eye, Lena can see Kara turn to look at her, but she refuses to return the gesture. 

“It didn’t feel like there was an expectation to get close to you — but we did, because I _wanted_ to,” Kara explains. “The more I learned about you, the more I wanted to know.”

Lena’s throat tightens and she doesn’t know why.

“I don’t like talking about my family because it reminds me of what I’ve lost,” Kara confesses. “But that one night with you, telling you about them … it felt like I had it all back, even if it was just for a moment.”

Well, fuck if Lena can’t empathize with that. Her heart yearns for the lush green of an Irish meadow, the feeling of ancient stones under foot, and the sweet embrace of her mother’s arms. But they’re nothing but split-second memories, blurry at the edges — lost to time and circumstance.

Kara brings a finger up to her forehead; Lena would guess from an abundance of context clues it’s on the small scar above Kara’s eyebrow. 

“You once asked me about _this_ ,” Kara whispers. “I … I got it the night I lost my whole family.”

Lena honestly, truly, genuinely has no idea what to say. A part of her wants to ask, desperately, and a part of her doesn’t — she can already feel in her bones that it's tragic.

“I haven’t told anyone … ever, really,” Kara tells her. “The Danvers’ already knew most of what happened, so I didn’t have to say much. So I’ve never actually _told_ anyone everything.”

Lena doesn’t dare move, she just keeps staring at her murky reflection in the gold gilded panel in front of her.

“Do you know that’s the worst part of this whole thing, Lena?” Kara asks, her voice thick with pain. “It’s that — for the first time — I wanted to tell it. I wanted to tell _you_ , Lena. Because you’re the only person I’ve ever met that truly seems to get what it feels like to wake up in a strange, foreign world and know there’s no going home. You understand.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Lena can see Kara wipe a cheek with the back of her palm.

It’s a crocodile tear, a ruse for forgiveness. It has to be.

“Why are you telling me this?” Lena’s voice may be soft, but it’s a demand. There’s no logical reason for Kara to share this with her — they’re no one to each other now. She had made that abundantly clear in the parking lot.

“Because you know what it’s like,” Kara offers. “And because I’m _trusting_ you. I’m letting you in.”

It’s the voice in which Kara speaks next that almost breaks Lena’s wrathful resolve, almost compels Lena to take Kara in her arms and tell her everything will be alright.

But it’s not. Because Lena’s still so angry, and hurt, and not ready to let go.

“I lost my _entire_ world, Lena,” Kara whispers. “And I-I’ve built myself a new one, but …”

“… it doesn’t replace it,” Lena finishes, throat almost closed. She wasn’t old enough to know what exactly she lost, but she can still feel that she’s lost greatly. “I’m sorry, Kara.”

Nothing has ever tested her willpower like this before.

“Eliza says I don’t let myself feel weak, and when I do, I punish myself for it,” Kara continues. And I’m starting to think I do too. Actually, that’s exactly what I did — I self-sabotaged, I lied about the draft so I didn’t have to risk losing you over the truth.”

“The truth?” Lena scoffs.

Kara takes a deep breath, balling her fists up.

“Lena, I caught feelings for you,” Kara confesses. “I fell for you.”

That admission genuinely shakes Lena to her core, a wave of adrenaline overwhelming her.

Kara fell for her?

Kara fell for _her_ _?_

“I should’ve just told you sooner, I know that now,” Kara says. “But it just made me feel so weak and scared; I was afraid you’d run for the hills if I told you. And I was selfish — I didn’t want to lose you. Not yet.”

She’s right. A few months ago, Lena would have fled, never to return, but that’s nothing short of a death-bed confession.

Kara takes another deep breath before continuing.

“And the idea of losing you?” Kara admits, “It was so much easier to do it myself, my way. That’s why I really broke things off. Because _I fell for you_.”

“When?” Lena forces out. She needs to know.

“The day I busted my head open,” Kara says. “You cleaned it in the bathroom and when I opened my eyes and looked into yours, I just … I could’ve lived in that moment forever with you. No one’s ever taken care of me like that before.”

January. Kara’s had feelings for her since _January_. Two whole months.

Feelings during all those games Lena watched from the courtside. Feelings in all their car rides together. Feelings at the Luthor Foundation fundraiser, when Kara looked Lillian in the eye and all but told her to go to hell.

Kara had feelings _too_.

Unsure how to handle Lena’s silence, Kara’s clearly taken it upon herself to fill it further. They both send a nervous glance upwards at the elevator floor. They’re close to the bottom now.

“I don’t feel at home here. Not here, not even in Midvale,” Kara says. “But I feel at home when I’m with people who are important to me. With Alex. With Kal. With my friends. With … you, Lena.”

Lena swallows roughly, forcing every feeling and word back down into the fiery depths of her core. She won’t allow one moment of sentimental weakness to ruin this for herself. She has a plan and the scotch in her veins and the burnt remains of her heart will see it through.

“I was so afraid to lose you that I hurt you, and I’m so sorry,” Kara says. “I’m so sorry. I want you in my life; I want to let you in … I am, I am letting you in now. And I’m hoping it’s not too late.”

There’s not a single molecule of air left in the elevator. There’s no space for it, between the two of them and all their baggage.

“Lena, please,” Kara practically cries, “Say something, say anything.”

The elevator doors slide open one final time, finally at the ground floor.

This is it. It’s a crossroads. Two choices.

Kara just handed her the knife and knelt down at Lena’s altar and _this is it_ — she can make Kara bleed. To know her pain. To be hurt by someone who she holds love for.

Or _this is it_ , she could have everything she wanted. She could have Kara. She could stand in the sun.

But she doesn’t deserve it. She wants to deserve it, she wants to be able to forgive, but she’s still just so fucking hurt. 

Kara hurt her and she hurt Kara in return. Haven’t they gone too long now to recover, with feelings unspoken and words unsaid?

Lena knows no forgiveness. She never has. Not for her sins, her decisions, her identity. How could she forgive Kara if there’s no way Kara could ever do the same for someone like her? Words are easy to manipulate and hard to believe.

It’s clear to her now; if Kara’s everyone’s hero, then she must be the villain. There’s only one way for a Luthor. And like a shrike with her prey, she goes to impale Kara on the barb of their own creation.

“Thank you for telling me,” Lena speaks slowly, in measured amounts. She doesn’t meet Kara’s eyes; she can’t. “… But this changes nothing.”

This is to hurt Kara, to exact righteous retribution and even the scales.

So why does it feel like Lena’s now the one bleeding out?

She can’t stay any longer; this grave wasn’t dug for two. So for the second time, Lena sets her jaw — ignoring the anguish in her throat, the guilt in her gut, and the longing in her heart — and walks away from Kara Danvers.

She knows she won’t be able to walk away a third time.

* * *

Lena walked away.

Of all the reactions Kara would’ve expected — snide contempt or vicious anger — what she never expected was for her to walk away. Again. Yelling or spite would’ve hurt less.

Kara doesn’t know another pain like this one.

She knows it'll be a lifetime before she’s ever truly over this feeling, but it’s an oddly bearable burden. It just _is_. Telling Lena the truth — that she has feelings for her — was as liberating as it was heartbreaking.

Things can only be broken so many times over before that becomes all they are. Right?

So Kara settles into her new world once more. She has Alex, she has Kal, she has her friends. She’ll be okay, eventually.

Alex is there for her every step of the way.

The sisters are chilling in the apartment together after a Monday afternoon practice, both doing homework while the TV plays idly in the background, when Kara gets a phone call from the (second to) last person she ever would’ve expected. It’s been a long time since that ID popped up on her screen. But she’d recognize those three little words instantly.

 _Incoming call from_ **_Al’s Dive Bar_ **_…_

“Hello?” Kara answers. “Kara Danvers.”

“Hey, kid,” Al’s raspy voice comes through the phone. “It’s Al, from the bar.”

“Hi …” Kara says slowly, brow crinkled like never before. She shoots a glance over at Alex, sitting in the flesh at their dining room table. “Um, Al, I don’t mean to be rude, but why are you calling me? I’m looking at Alex right now.”

Alex’s head turns at the sound of her name.

“This ain’t for Alex, kid,” Al says. “Got a different damsel-in-distress for ya. Keeps mumblin’ your name. You gotta come get her; she’s too drunk.”

Kara’s heart catches in her throat. “Do you have a name?”

It couldn’t be.

“Nah,” Al says. “Just keeps telling me ‘it’s on the news’ over and over. She’s a rich one though.”

No way it could be _her._

“Al,” Kara chokes out. “Does she have dark hair and green eyes? Is she … really pretty?”

“Haven’t seen her eyes in awhile,” Al answers. “But yeah to the rest. Came in and dropped a few hundred on the bar — asked for ‘scotch and silence’ all dramatic-like.”

_It is._

“I’ll be right there,” Kara states. “Don’t let her leave, please.”

“I’ll do my best, kid.” The line disconnects.

Alex looks over at her with concern. “What the hell was that about?” 

“Al just called,” Kara said, still holding the phone up in the air. “I have to go … go pick Lena up from the bar.”

“Jeez,” Alex hisses. “A house call? It’s not even seven-o-clock yet.”

“Can I borrow the car?” Kara asks, grabbing a water bottle and throwing her jacket on in a hurry. “I’m sorry, it’s just—”

“Go get her,” Alex tosses her the keys without delay. “You know the drill; don’t be seen. J’onn will kill you if anyone gets a photo of you out at a bar right now.”

“I won’t,” Kara promises, sliding a Meteors baseball cap down low over her face. “Thanks, Alex.”

“Let me know if you need anything,” Alex says.

“I will.”

“God, it’s nice to be on the other end of that call,” Alex mumbles to herself, and it’s the last thing Kara hears before the door shuts behind her.

Kara knows the way to Al’s like the back of her hand, but she still makes it there in record-time. Being here in the daylight is always odd yet familiar, like riding a bike for the first time in years. She throws the car into park on the side street and heads straight in.

It’s dark inside, like always, and her eyes take a minute to adjust. Al is standing at the closest corner of the bar, wiping a towel over the bar top while he waits for her. 

Kara beelines right for him. “Hi, Al.”

“Hey, kid,” he greets, giving her a grim smile. “You gotta getcha friend outta here.”

“I’m on it,” Kara nods in understanding. “Where is she?”

Al steps to the side and points over his shoulder. “Far back corner.”

Kara follows the line of his thumb and there she is. There, slumped over an empty tumbler and a cup of water, dark hair falling like curtains around her beautiful face, is Lena Luthor.

The sight of her knocks Kara breathless. She half-expected to never even see Lena in person again, let alone share the same air.

Kara wastes no time, walking over slowly like one would approach a wounded animal.

“Lena?” Kara asks. “Are you okay?”

The sound of her voice seems to stir Lena lucid; angry green eyes — half-lidded and slightly bloodshot — come to fixate on Kara. 

“Clearly.”

“Why are you here, at Al’s?” Kara asks. “It’s Monday and the sun’s still out.”

“I was feeling sentimental. The world deserves to see it’s pariah, does it not?” Lena challenges.

“Pariah?” Kara frowns. That wasn’t the answer she was expecting, at all. “What?”

Lena points a sharp finger up at the TV on the adjacent wall. “Look at a fucking TV, Danvers.”

Kara can’t really hear it over the bar noise, but she doesn’t need to. There’s a broadcaster up on the screen, talking at a fevered pace, and next to her is a projected headshot of Lena’s mom with a professional yet arrogant smile on her face. At the bottom of the screen is a bright yellow banner that reads:

 **Breaking News: Luthor Corp CEO, Lillian Luthor, M.D., Arrested** ****

_Arrested?_

Kara’s stomach plummets through her feet. “Oh, fuck.”

“Mmm,” Lena hums, looking down into her empty glass. “Oh fuck, indeed.”

“Did you know?” Kara asks softly.

Lena sends her a sharp glare. “If I did, do you think I would be here right now?”

“Fair point,” Kara concedes. “Speaking of, we need to get you out of here.”

“We?”

“Yeah, ‘we’,” Kara says. “You’re too drunk to be here right now; you’re lucky Al called me before kicking you out.”

“My hero,” Lena glares, making it very clear to Kara that she is anything but. “It’s the second coming of Saint Danvers.”

“I’m just trying to help, Lena,” Kara sighs, plucking the empty glass from Lena’s hand.

“What are you, Kara, a saint or a sinner?” Lena mumbles. “God or mortal? Hero or villain?”

“You’re very drunk,” Kara informs her.

“Drunk, yes. Cynical, yes. Absolute bitch, yes,” Lena rattles off, still glaring at her. “Liar? No.”

Kara winces.

“So you do have a conscience,” Lena notes.

There’s something about that insult that lands harshly, and Kara can feel red rush through her veins.

“Listen to me,” Kara says through gritted teeth. She leans in towards Lena; it would be so easy to move that extra inch until their lips are touching again, but Kara is far too exasperated to notice in the moment.

“I’m not even supposed to be here right now,” Kara continues. “If anyone sees me in this bar, I could get into a _huge_ amount of trouble with J’onn and the team. But you need me, so I’m here, and I’m going to help you, so _stop fighting me._ ”

To their mutual surprise, it works.

After shooting a quick message off to Jack, Kara’s able to get Lena to her feet fairly smoothly — no small task considering the woman’s heels. Kara then helps her into her coat, tying the sash a bit too tight, which earns her a scowl from Lena, who gets one right back.

“Put your arm around my waist,” Kara tells her. “And I’m going to put mine around your shoulder to keep you steady. You need to act as sober as possible for the next two minutes.”

Lena does as she requests — Kara shoots Al a nod of gratitude on the way out — and they make it to the car without issue.

Kara goes to buckle Lena in, but the woman smacks her hand away and does it herself in a grand show of independence. “Your two minutes are up, Danvers … you don’t get to help anymore.”

Kara rolls her eyes but lets it go, turning the engine on and gripping the wheel almost tight enough to snap it.

“Don’t puke in Alex’s car,” Kara warns. “She’ll kill me.”

“I won’t,” Lena slurs. “ ‘m not there yet.”

“You’ll probably want to pull trig sooner than later,” Kara informs her. “How much did you have?”

“Hm, too much,” Lena replies.

“Yeah, I figured that,” Kara says under her breath.

“I-you can’t take me home,” Lena says. “There’s photogr—”

“—photographers,” Kara confirms. “I figured. No, I’m taking you to Jack’s.”

“Oh,” Lena says. “ … thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Kara replies, her voice softened to match Lena’s.

They ride in silence for a while, until Kara breaks it to make sure Lena’s still conscious.

“How are you doing, Lena?” Kara asks softly.

“Like you actually give a fuck now, Danvers,” Lena snaps.

O-kay, still very much conscious. And furious. That’s fun.

“I do actually ‘give a fuck’, Lena,” Kara says firmly. “I care about you. I’m sorry that’s this horrible thing for you, but I can’t just magically shut it off. Believe me, I’ve tried!”

“Of course you’ve tried,” Lena goads. “I’m a Luthor. As of today, I think we’re now officially the most hated family in the country.”

“You’re not just a Luthor to me.”

“Save it.”

Kara realizes with a start she has no idea what Lillian was actually arrested for. She imagines she’s more likely to get an insult or a scathing dig than an actual answer if she was to ask Lena right now.

“Have you talked to Lex?” Kara asks instead.

“Briefly.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Kara asks with measured patience.

“With you?” Lena scoffs. “No.”

“Will you talk about it with someone?” Kara requests.

“Doubtful.”

“Lena …” Kara pleads. “That’s not healthy.”

“I’m not particularly concerned about my health right now, Kara,” Lena says. “I’m trying this novel thing: self-sabotage. I heard it worked _very_ well for you.”

“Look, I know I’ve hurt you, and I’m sorry, Lena,” Kara says. “But I’m just trying to help you right now. Can you please fight me a little less? Like 50%?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re the most incredible person I have ever met, Kara Danvers,” Lena rambles. “And I despise you for it. I broke each and every rule for you, and it destroyed me softly and slowly.”

Every rule?

“… _Every_ rule?” Kara realizes.

Lena broke the ‘no feelings’ rule.

_Lena caught feelings._

_Oh._

“You caught feelings for me?” Kara whispers. Even as the words leave her mouth, the order in which they combine feels impossible.

Lena attempts to roll her half-closed eyes. “You’re insufferable.”

“No,” Kara says, firmer this time. “You have feelings for me?”

“I’m not answering that,” Lena refuses.

“You have feelings for me,” Kara states. “You just said it.”

“Enough,” Lena seethes. “I’d sooner drink a glass of acid next than hear you say it again.”

“But Lena why …” Kara trails off. “Why did you say …?”

“Are you sure you’re not the drunk one?” Lena insults. “You can’t even string a sentence together.”

That hits a nerve.

“I lied to you, Lena, and for that I am so sorry,” Kara says, voice wet. “But _you lied to me_ too. What … why would you say that you wouldn’t want to be with me?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Lena challenges.

“No, what? Why are you being so difficult about this?” Kara’s getting more agitated. “Why are you so difficult about everything? Why can’t you just say how you actually feel?”

“What, Danvers, you want me to change?” Lena says drily. “Fuck you.”

“I don’t want you to change, Lena,” Kara says darkly. “I want you to be happy and healthy and that’s _not_ what this is right now.”

“My mother just got arrested,” Lena deadpans. “I’ve never been happier.”

Kara lets out an angry snort. “Yeah, clearly. Happy people always get trashed at seven o’clock on a Monday.”

“Don’t you dare presume to know how I feel,” Lena hisses. “You have _no_ idea.”

“I don’t,” Kara agrees softly. “But I don’t think you know either.”

“I can’t stand you.”

“You can’t even _stand_ ,” Kara retorts.

“And here I thought you preferred me on my knees, _darling_.”

“Don’t do that,” Kara snarls. “Don’t make it sound like this was all just about sex.”

“Wasn’t it?” Lena’s head rolls around to give Kara a scathing look. “That’s what this started as. What it should’ve been.”

“Do you really believe that?” Kara challenges. “Because I don’t care what this started as! You’re an amazing person, Lena, and _I’m glad_ I know that now. And at the risk of making this all a little too simple for you, here’s what I’ve got figured out: I have feelings for you, and you also apparently do, or did, have feelings for me.”

Lena doesn’t voice her dissent, so Kara keeps going.

“I lied to you about the draft, but I only said that because you told me you’d never want to be in a relationship with me,” Kara explains. “Lena, you lied to me too.”

“No, I didn’t,” Lena states. “I said I had no intention of ever _asking_ you for a relationship, and I meant what I said. I wasn’t about to ask you to be ‘more’ after you made it perfectly clear you don’t _do_ that with your fuck-buddies.”

“But you wanted it?” Kara’s forehead crinkles in frustration. “A technicality? Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“That’s just great, Lena,” Kara sets her jaw, her teeth mashing together. “So what was your plan? You had feelings for me. Were you just gonna go along with being fuck-buddies forever?”

“I didn’t even realize I had feelings until my mother’s fundraiser,” Lena retorts. “I had two weeks. Whereas you had almost two _months_ and not once did you admit to breaking our final rule.”

“I hate the rules; they’re stupid,” Kara says. “And they obviously don’t fucking work.”

 _“T _hey_ would have _ if you hadn’t insisted on constantly bending them,” Lena seethes.

“Oh, okay,” Kara lets out an angry laugh. “Blame it all on me, but I’m pretty sure you broke more of them than I did.”

“Fine, Kara, I might’ve broken my own rules but you still broke my fucking heart,” Lena says. “We both might not have been open and honest with each other, but you’re the one that _left_.”

“That was the last thing I wanted to do! I was going to tell you how I felt that night!” Kara exclaims, voice breathy with exasperation. “But then things felt weird after Siobhan, and then you made that comment, and I just …”

Kara’s voice gives out under the wake of her anguish. They had been so close … they …

“I couldn’t do it anymore,” Kara admits softly. “I wanted the real thing. No rules. No holding back. And I knew it would’ve broken my heart to stay, thinking that was something you would never want.”

There’s a pause as both the car’s occupants survey the damage they’ve done. Kara tries her hardest to figure out her next words, but a complete thought never quite formulates.

“I … I planned to tell you that night too.” Lena’s voice is small and meek. It’s vulnerable and raw in a way that Kara’s only ever heard once before, at four-something in the morning the night of Kara’s nightmare.

“I was going to … tell you I had feelings for you, that night,” Lena continues, stronger this time. “That I wanted it to be real. No rules this time.”

Kara swallows roughly. “You were?”

“Yes,” Lena admits. “Until Siobhan made me doubt if I actually knew you, the real you.”

“Oh.”

Lena turns to face her now, and their eyes connect in a moment of sheer, wounded desperation.

“Kara …?” Lena rasps. “… Do you ever get exhausted by it all?”

“By what?”

“The pressure,” Lena elaborates. “The expectations. Everyone always having an opinion.”

“Yeah,” Kara nods. “Do you?”

“For the longest time, I never knew anything else, so I didn’t know what it could feel like to actually be relaxed and …” Lena trails off, swallowing roughly. “Until I got to know you.”

Kara’s heart skips a beat.

“I know what you mean,” Kara says. “What you asked me at Al’s, about if it’s harder being Supergirl or me? You already knew the answer when you asked. It’s because it’s the same for you, isn’t it?”

Lena gives just the slightest nod.

“I love being Supergirl. I love to compete, I love the challenge, I love the thrill. And I’m _good_ at it,” Kara recounts, voice thick with emotion. “But I still disappoint people. I still fuck up. It just hurts less than when I fuck up at being Kara Danvers.”

Kara takes a deep breath and continues. 

“Everyone in my life sees me as some variant of Supergirl. They’re all connected with that part of my life. But you … you didn’t give a single shit about basketball and I kind of loved it,” Kara explains. “There was no pressure, no expectations. Once we actually started to get to know each other, I got to just be _Kara_ with you. And it was terrifying because no one ever gets to see the full version of me.”

Lena doesn’t say anything at first, but Kara can feel every muscle in her body relax in the cradle of their mutual empathy.

“ _Lena Luthor_ doesn’t get to make mistakes,” Lena whispers. “Lillian always made that very clear. And Luthors certainly don’t get forgiveness when they do.”

“But what about just _Lena_ _?”_ Kara asks.

No answer comes.

In that silence, they both share the profound realization that they know each other far more than they ever realized. Lena _knows_ Kara, and Kara _knows_ Lena.

There’s a confession hiding in Kara’s throat. Even after Lena’s hurt her, she still has nothing but love to give.

She still has hope.

But she holds her tongue for once. She’s made enough knee-jerk, half-assed reactions in the past two weeks to be tied over for a long time. And in her waiting, she’s recognized that now's not the time to share — Lena’s very drunk, her mother just got _arrested_ for fuck’s sake, and Kara’s not going to add in anymore baggage then she already has.

“That water’s for you, by the way,” Kara says instead, gesturing to the bottle in the cupholder.

Lena cracks open the water and takes a few considerable sips. “… Thank you.”

“We’re here,” Kara says, the GPS on her phone announcing they’ve reached their destination. She slows the car down as she pulls over, mindful not to be too abrupt for Lena’s stomach’s sake, and parks in one of the few open spaces in front of Jack’s apartment complex. 

“He’s on the second floor,” Lena volunteers, remaining idle in her seat. “2B.”

Lena’s drunk enough now that Kara has to prompt her movement. She goes around to the passenger door and opens it, then unbuckles Lena’s seatbelt, and helps her out of the vehicle. Lena keeps one hand clutched around Kara’s forearm the whole time and Kara tries very hard not to focus on how her skin burns underneath the touch.

The singular flight of stairs proves to be a bit of a challenge for Lena, who’s currently staggering sideways more than forward, and Kara doesn’t have the patience for it.

“I’m sorry,” Kara mumbles, quickly sweeping Lena into her arms. Lena’s arms wrap around her shoulders in muscle memory.

Kara braces for complaints, but they don’t come. She sets Lena down again as soon as they reach the top.

“End of the hall,” Lena directs, stumbling forward. She lurches a bit too far forward and Kara reaches for her on instinct.

“Woah!” Kara exclaims, catching her and pulling Lena back towards her chest. They collide with a heavy thump and it stirs something deep and primal inside. 

Kara’s not sure how exactly it happens, but they’re facing each other now, lips only inches apart. Her hands are tense on Lena’s back, pressing them together with a restrained tension, and Lena grips her shoulders. Lena’s mascara is smudged under her eyes and she looks hauntingly beautiful as her eyelids flutter under Kara’s gaze.

If Kara thought she knew temptation before, this moment has redefined every misconception.

“Why did you come, Kara?” Lena asks Kara’s lips. It’s the softest demand Kara’s ever heard.

“Because I care about you,” Kara replies. “Because I—”

Lena shoves Kara away.

Kara just blinks at her, still spellbound, until the absence of the other woman’s warmth restores her cognitive function. An eternity passes after Kara knocks on Jack’s door. In that never-ending silence, Kara takes the time to say one final thing before Lena disappears forever.

“I don’t want this, Lena,” Kara whispers. “I don’t want to be two people that just keep hurting each other because they can’t handle how they feel about the other. That’s not how love should work.”

Kara’s not sure what Lena’s response would have been, and she’ll never know. The door opens with a swish and the moment is lost.

“Hey,” Jack greets them, opening the door wide. Kara can see a TV on behind him, rolling footage of Lillian being escorted out of a grey concrete building by three men in suits.

“Et tu, Brute?” Lena bites, pushing briskly past Jack to what Kara would imagine is the bathroom.

Jack grimaces, watching her disappear into the depths of his apartment. He then turns back around to face Kara. “The Shakespeare is never a good sign. Are you sure you don’t want to handle this one?”

“No,” Kara exhales forcefully. “If I did, she’d probably just hate me more.”

Jack gives a single chuckle. “For what it’s worth, love and hate are just two sides of the same coin for Lena. It’s toxic but that’s the dynamic she knows. Sam got some of it out of her system, but we all relapse.”

Everything she knows about Lena and her family confirms that fact.

“Yeah. Bye, Jack,” Kara says, shooting one final look past him into the apartment. She’s hoping, searching, yearning for one final glimpse of Lena — because once she walks away today, she's not sure she’ll ever get another.

“Goodbye, Kara,” Jack gives her an understanding smile. ”And I know I have no right to ask this of you, but … don’t give up hope yet. Lillian’s arrest just flipped her entire world upside down. She’s not her best right now. She was already stubborn and hurt before this happened, so … it’ll take time.”

Kara gives him a vague nod, unsure of what it even means herself. Her mind is everywhere and nowhere at the same time. She waves goodbye and backs away. 

_It’ll take time_ , Kara repeats to herself. _But how much? One lifetime or two?_

* * *

It takes exactly two days.

Lena comes to her on a Wednesday.

She’s just about the last person Kara ever expected to see knocking at her door; she’s not sure if it’s the last person she ever _wanted_ , or the one she wants the most.

It’s late, which means Alex is already over at Maggie’s, so the only spectators they’ll have tonight are each other and their ghosts.

The sight of Lena’s face through the peephole is like a switch; Kara’s heart goes soft and her body goes stiff. She ignores the fact of the former and sets her jaw, ready to shut down at the slightest sign that she’s going to get hurt again. She takes one final inhale to steel herself and pulls open the door with an overly tensed arm.

Green eyes meet blue and it’s a bloody battlefield the day after.

Lena’s lips open a fraction like she wants to speak, but nothing comes out. They just stare at each other for a moment while the anxious silence surrounds them like a cage.

Kara’s arm falls from the door. Lena’s eyes drop to the floor. She pulls at her fingers and Kara balls her own up into fists to fight the urge to mirror the action.

“Kara …” Lena finally chokes out.

Kara just blinks at her, a mask of steel and ice shielding her face.

“Can we talk?” Lena asks, voice painfully soft.

Kara turns around and walks away from the door, leaving it open, as her form of answer. As she walks over to the kitchen to lean up against the counter, she can hear the slow clicking of Lena’s heels on the floor and the firm lock of the door being shut. Kara feels the cold press of the laminate against her spine as she folds her arms over her chest and looks at Lena once more.

Lena’s still pulling at her fingers, her eyes darting nervously around the apartment, as if to check that the walls won’t collapse in on them. They won’t, no matter how much they might both feel like it. 

Kara can see Lena’s jaw tense when she comes across the pile of backpacks and duffle bags on the floor by the table. She and Alex are packed and set to leave tomorrow for Phoenix, alongside the rest of the team, to play in the first and second rounds of the national tournament. 

But Kara offers Lena no explanation; there’s a small satisfaction to watching her aggravation that she doesn’t know something.

Lena looks away from the bags after a second too long, making eye contact with Kara again. Kara’s jaw tightens like a vice to keep the words in — she’s not the one who came here to talk, she’s not the one with something to say. She’s already said everything.

Or almost everything, until Lena had shoved her away.

Lena’s lips flutter again.

“I…” she starts, going so slowly Kara feels as though death will take them both before she finishes. “… I thought about what you said at Jack’s …”

Kara’s words echo in her mind. _“I don’t want to be two people that just keep hurting each other because they can’t handle how they feel about the other. That’s not how love should work.”_

“… and I don’t want that either,” Lena gulps. “I-I’m here to apologize.”

For some reason that cuts right into Kara’s soul. Hope is always the sharpest sword.

Kara doesn’t respond, other than with narrowed eyes and an icy frown.

“I didn’t stop to consider things from your perspective,” Lena says. “But I do now. And I’m so sorry it even took me this long. That asinine comment I made after Siobhan … I was just scared and defensive, because I did want a relationship with you. So desperately, I just …”

Lena takes a very deep inhale. “So when you broke things off that night … it was a … shock. And then when I found out you lied to me about the reason why …”

Kara swallows roughly.

“I was hurt,” Lena explains, voice wet. “So, so hurt. But I get why you said what you did, I get why you didn’t want to tell me you had feelings. I didn’t exactly make it easy on you.”

Kara’s eyebrows fly upwards.

“You were right …” Lena gasps. “If you had told me you had feelings for me earlier, I would’ve ran. I would’ve ran so quick and far, I …”

Lena pauses and blinks rapidly a few times.

“I know I was hammered, but I meant what I said in the car,” she says. “You are the most incredible person I have ever met. And it terrifies me.” She gives Kara a teary look. “Because how can I have that? On what world do I deserve it?”

 _This world_ , Kara thinks before she can stop herself.

“I don’t expect your forgiveness,” Lena says. “I know you opened up to me, and I get how difficult that is, I really do … so I know what I said and did hurt you. How could it not? I just … I-I really need you to hear me right now.”

Kara swallows hard and tilts her chin up in acknowledgment.

“Please,” Lena gives her a weak smile, her dimples appearing for the briefest of moments. “Please believe me when I tell you: I am so, terribly sorry, Kara. You opening up — you trusting me — it meant everything to me.”

“When why did you say it didn’t change anything?” Kara asks softly, looking at Lena with wounded eyes.

“Because, I …” Lena stammers, as uncomposed and unsure as Kara’s ever seen her. “Because I thought by hurting you, it would make my pain go away. Blood for blood. And then I could just retreat behind my walls after. But it just made everything a thousand times worse, and I … I guess I’ve really lived up to my last name, huh?”

Lena shoots her the most heartbreaking, self-deprecating smile Kara’s ever seen. “You can scream at me if you want,” Lena offers. “I know I deserve it.”

That shatters Kara whole again. “I’m not going to yell at you, Lena, ever. You don’t deserve that; just like your last name doesn’t deserve you.”

Lena just looks at the floor and shakes her head.

“Lena, I have to ask,” Kara says slowly. “What changed for you? I thought I’d never see you again. Why did you come here?”

“You … you kept your word,” Lena explains. “I lashed out and hurt you and pushed you away. You didn’t owe me anything anymore. But you still came for me at Al’s.”

“I always will,” Kara swears. “I’d do it for anyone, but especially for you.”

“Why?” Lena challenges, her throat tight around the word.

“Because I love you,” Kara says simply. 

_Kara Danvers loves Lena Luthor._

They might both be fucking idiots, but it’s really that simple to understand. 

Simple to understand, hard to accept. Lena’s lips fall apart in a silent gasp and she blinks rapidly as if to wake from a dream.

“You’re a good person, Lena,” Kara tells her. “And you've got to give yourself permission to be one.”

“I … you’ve seen my flaws laid fully bare now,” Lena says, lip trembling ever so slightly. “Yet you still say that like you mean it.”

“Because I do,” Kara says. “And because you’ve seen mine too.”

“You don’t think I’m a lost cause?”

“Never. All you can do is try to be a better person than you were yesterday,” Kara says patiently. “But it’s okay to slip up too; progress isn’t linear.”

Lena gives her an overwhelmed squint. “When did you get all wise and soulful?”

“You bring it out in me,” Kara smiles softly. “And I’ve been getting a lot of unsolicited — if not good — advice recently.”

“Alex did mention you were being a bit of a terror,” Lena chuckles.

“I was n—” Kara starts to protest, then drops it at the sight of Lena’s arched brow. “I was; I was being a terror. A little bit.”

The lightness in the air falls like a fleeting fog as they make eye contact again.

“So …” Lena gulps. “Where does this leave us?”

“I don’t know,” is Kara’s honest answer. 

Lena accepts her answer for what it is, and nods her head in small repeated motions. Kara can tell from the look in her eyes that her mind has since retreated inward. She looks unsure … something Lena Luthor is not known to be.

“Lena?”

Lena looks back up at her — green meets blue — and a resolution is made.

“There’s something I should have done in the elevator,” Lena says, taking slow, tentative steps closer to Kara. “And it’s been eating me alive since. I made the wrong decision then; I don’t want to make it again.”

Kara pushes up off the kitchen island to come stand tall on her feet, unsure of what to expect. 

“We don’t always make the right decision the first time,” Kara rasps out.

Lena’s so unbearably close now, red lips almost within reach — and for a second Kara thinks they might kiss — when Lena’s hand slowly rises up between their faces.

Kara closes her eyes on instinct.

Two of Lena’s fingers ghost over the scar on Kara’s forehead. A shiver runs through Kara’s entire body.

_Oh._

Oh, that’s even worse.

“Tell me,” Lena whispers the request. It’s hallowed and venerating. “If you want to.”

Kara trembles slightly under her touch. She’s terrified to, she can’t be vulnerable like this … it’s a jump and she’s afraid to fall. Yet she really, really, really wants to tell her. She wants Lena to _know_. To know her fully, to be weightless with someone.

Flying is only for the hopeful.

“Okay,” Kara exhales. “I do.”

Lena retracts her hand, giving Kara space.

“You should come get comfortable though,” Kara says, glancing over at the couch. “It’s a long story to listen to, standing in heels.”

“Is Alex …?” Lena trails off, looking around in alarm as if she just realized there was a possibility of interruption.

“She’s at Maggie’s. J’onn always keeps them in separate rooms when the team’s playing away, so this is their last night together for a few days,” Kara says.

“You’re leaving?” Lena asks. A flicker of disappointment passes over her face, but it’s well-hidden soon after.

“Tomorrow. The national tournament is starting,” Kara explains. She side-steps out of Lena’s orbit to grab two mugs from the cabinet. “I don’t have coffee, but I have tea?”

While Lena kicks off her shoes and hangs up her coat by the front door, Kara busies herself with making the tea. She just microwaves the water-filled mugs — she’s not exactly a snob about the process — and plops the bags in. The smell of green tea starts to waft throughout the room.

“Green tea was my mom’s favorite,” Kara says, sliding a mug across the island to Lena on the other side.

Lena clears her throat as she takes a hold of her mug. “She had good taste.”

“She did,” Kara smiles softly. “She would’ve liked you, I think. She was always dressed up too; it used to drive her nuts that my dad and I would always be running around in sweats.”

“Did your father play basketball as well?” Lena asks. In one fluid motion, she extracts the tea bag and balls the string up around it, and Kara automatically holds out a hand to throw it away for her.

“Thank you,” Lena says softly, a bit surprised to see the open palm.

“Of course,” Kara nods, tossing her own too. “And no, he wasn’t really a sports guy. He was super athletic, but he just preferred to do his own thing. Kal’s dad was an Olympic jumper though, so the hops are in the blood.”

“I thought the Kents were farmers?” Lena’s brow furrows.

“Oh, they are! They adopted Clark when he was a baby.” Kara says with a start, realizing the confusion. “I meant Kal’s biological dad.”

“Mm,” Lena nods, taking a sip of tea. “I didn’t realize he was adopted too. You call him Clark sometimes, and Kal others. Why is that?”

“Oh,” the corner of Kara’s lips twist around in uncertainty. “I usually call him Clark with other people; I didn’t realize I had been calling him Kal with you so much. I really only use it when I’m talking to him or Lois.”

“I don’t mind it,” Lena offers. “It’s not like it’s difficult to guess who you’re talking about. Is it a nickname?”

“Not exactly,” Kara says into her tea. “It was the name his parents gave him; Kal El. It was changed when he was adopted.”

“Why did the Kents change it?” Lena frowns.

“I don’t really know,” Kara shrugs. “It doesn’t bother Clark; they sound kind of close anyways. Lois uses them interchangeably too, so it’s just kind of a name of endearment now.”

“Ah,” Lena says. “And his last name?”

“Same deal as mine,” Kara says. “The Kents made it his middle name to honor his family. That’s actually what gave the Danvers the idea for mine; I didn’t have a middle name before that.”

“That’s a sweet sentiment.”

“Lena?” Kara stands upright in sudden realization. “What’s your middle name? We’ve been sleeping together for months and I have no idea what it is.”

“It’s Kieran,” Lena chuckles.

“And what’s your birthday?” Kara continues.

“October 24th,” Lena replies.

“That’s so close to mine!” Kara exclaims in delight. “Mine’s September 22nd.”

“That’s not terribly close, darling,” Lena chuckles. “And I think you might be getting a little off-topic.”

“They’re both in autumn.” The smile then falls from Kara’s face, into a gentle frown. “But yeah, I think I am.”

“Maybe we should sit?” Lena suggests, leaning in towards Kara in concern. For a second, Kara expects Lena to hold out a hand. It doesn’t come and Kara begins to crave it.

“Yeah, okay,” Kara nods in acceptance. It’s a good idea actually, her legs are a bit stiff from standing. “Let’s head to the couch.”

They each get settled in on opposite ends of the larger couch, teas in hand, facing each other with their backs against the armrests. Lena tucks her legs sideways under herself. Kara loosely pulls her legs up in front of her chest and sets her forearms on top of her knees.

“Here,” Kara says, tossing Lena a throw pillow. Alex tends to let them accumulate all on one side, and Kara knows the armrests don’t have the same padding they used to.

“Thank you,” Lena says, sliding it behind herself. She looks more relaxed afterwards. She sips intently at her tea, not looking at Kara, as if giving the woman the time to collect herself.

“I’ve never done this before,” Kara chuckles nervously. “It’s … hard.”

“It is,” Lena gives her a sympathetic nod. “Take all the time you need.”

Kara swallows roughly. “I think I’m okay,” she says. “I … wow, this is _really_ hard.”

“It’s alright, Kara,” Lena soothes. “Why don’t you tell me more about Clark? You guys seem very close.”

Kara smiles, grateful for the tangible focus. “Yeah, we are … We were always on good terms, but once I got to college, we got really close. I used to look up to him when I was little, but when I got older he became more my equal. He’s also one of the only people I know who gets what it’s like to carry everyone’s great expectations.”

Lena nods and sips more of her tea, content to listen.

“Clark didn’t know he was adopted until I was born; he was ten,” Kara informs her. “The Kents wanted him to have as normal of a childhood as possible, but they thought it was important for him to know the truth at that point. So the Kents brought him up to Krypton to meet me and my parents: his last remaining blood-relatives.”

Lena looks at Kara with gentle eyes as she continues.

“Kal’s biological parents died when he was about a year old,” Kara explains. “They were both doctors, away at a medical conference in Kansas, and they had brought Kal with them.”

Kara pauses to take a revitalizing sip of tea.

“There was a bad car accident,” she tells Lena, “An off-duty firefighter ran over to help. He was able to get Kal out of the wreckage in time, but his parents … they didn’t make it.”

The air in Kara’s lungs seems to thin a bit.

“My mom had just started law school, and my dad was in a PhD program,” Kara explains. “They weren’t equipped to handle a baby. But that off-duty firefighter that had rescued Kal, his name was Jonathan Kent … he and his wife ended up taking Clark in and raising him as theirs, on their farm in Kansas, so he wouldn’t have to know the pain of losing his parents.”

Lena frowns and Kara knows it’s out of a sense of understanding.

“I’ve always wondered if Kal didn’t resent my parents a little, though. He was part of our family, after all,” Kara says. “When the Kents told him the truth … he was heartbroken in a way, but he understood. The Kents were every bit his parents to him. He grew up in a house full of love and a life free of pain.”

Kara stops to take a sip of tea, then continues.

“Kal’s had a good life,” Kara says. “And he grew up to be the best basketball player alive. When I was younger, I wanted to be like him _so badly_ … and I wouldn’t hear anything different. I’m not sure if you know this about me, but apparently, I can be a little stubborn.” 

Her voice picks up a playful lilt at the end and Lena lets out an amused snort in return, one eyebrow cocked to the max.

“Anyways,” Kara continues, feeling motivated in the comforting intimacy restored between them. “When I was thirteen, I got into a big fight with my parents. I insisted on becoming a professional basketball player, just like Kal — he had just joined the league the year before — but they wouldn’t hear it.”

“Why not?” Lena frowns, head cocked preciously to one side.

Kara sighs, shifting her feet down to the floor to anchor her. “Because they were arrogant and thought they knew best. My mom was a high-ranking judge, and my dad was an accomplished scientist. They didn’t want me to ‘waste my potential’.”

“I’m sorry, Kara,” Lena murmurs, toying with her mug.

“It’s okay,” Kara says, rubbing a knot in her neck. “My Aunt Astra was always supportive about it. She was actually out visiting on leave — she was in the military — when the big fight happened. I had made the mistake of telling my parents over dinner that I wouldn’t go to college if I could go right into the pros, and my parents got _furious_. Mom threatened to pull me from basketball forever, effectively ending my plan.”

Kara takes another sip of tea, bracing to keep her voice level.

“I got super upset and tried to run away, but that’s kind of hard to do in Alaska in December,” Kara gives a rueful chuckle. “But my dad had a small, heated observatory in our backyard. I hid in there. I—”

Kara’s voice cuts off abruptly, her throat swelling with grief already. She pushes through.

“I don’t know if my mom sent her, or if she came on her own, but Astra ended up finding me out there,” Kara explains. “She talked me down a bit. She and my mom never got along, but Astra was always wonderful to me. I like to think she loved me like a daughter.”

Kara finishes the rest of her tea like a shot; the end is always the most bitter.

“Astra and I talked for a long time … we eventually fell asleep,” Kara says, her voice tightening. “We woke back up in the middle of the night. Something felt … wrong.”

Kara swallows roughly as a dark shadow falls over her face.

“I still remember the heat,” Kara says. “How _bright_ it was. The house had caught fire in the middle of the night. Astra … Astra ran in after my parents … but she didn’t come out, and neither did they.”

Kara can’t really see Lena anymore, her vision distorted by pooling tears, but she can feel Lena’s weight shift to sit right beside her — not quite touching, but only an atom’s length between them.

“I tried to run in after them …” she chokes out. “But next thing I knew, I woke up in the hospital.”

Kara pauses to take a deep breath, desperate for air.

“I … I couldn’t do anything to save my family and I blame myself for it,” Kara admits, voice barely a whisper. “So instead I just try to save everyone else.”

“Survivor’s guilt,” Lena recognizes.

“Yeah.” Kara brings a finger up to touch the same place on her forehead where Lena’s fingers had been not long ago. It feels like touching the flesh of a ghost.

“No one really knows what happened exactly,” Kara explains. “They think there must’ve been some explosion and the shockwave must’ve knocked me out, or a piece of debris hit me, but I wasn’t too badly burned. All I know is that I woke up in the hospital — with _this_ — no memory of what exactly happened, and … no parents.”

“A concussion?” Lena guesses softly.

“I wish,” Kara shakes her head. “It was a full TBI … I had a bit of brain bleeding, so I had to get a lot of MRI’s done. It was awful … the constant dizziness, the metallic clanging, the splitting headache. Feeling completely trapped. I still freak out any time I’m in a small space now.”

A hand flies up to Lena’s mouth as she looks at Kara in horror. “Kara … the bed! I shoved you under the bed, oh my god. Why didn’t you say anything? I had no idea you were claustrophobic, I never would’ve—”

“—It’s okay,” Kara raises a calming hand to cut her off. “The bed … wasn’t my favorite, but it wasn’t the worst. I could still move around some and I stayed next to the edge the whole time.”

“But Kara …” Lena’s eyes are wet with guilt — or maybe they already were wet from earlier — Kara can’t tell anymore. Not through her own tears.

“I promise, it’s okay,” Kara says. “I’ll let you know if I’m ever not.”

“… Alright,” Lena accepts after some internal difficulty.

“My time in the hospital is still kind of fuzzy,” Kara says, looking down at her lap. “My memory was shot and I slept a lot, so the days kind of blended together. That stuff really messes with you. On top of losing my parents and Astra, it … it was the worst experience I’ve … I felt like a complete phantom of myself.”

“Where was Clark?” Lena questions. There’s almost a hint of anger in her voice, much to Kara’s surprise.

“Kal flew out as soon as he could, but flights to Alaska in the winter time are a bit of a challenge,” Kara explains, still not meeting Lena’s eyes. “He stayed as long as he could. One of my dad’s old friends, Kelex, helped him figure out a lot of the estate stuff. But there was still the big question of where I was supposed to go live.”

Kara rolls her shoulders back, feeling the muscles snap over bone. It’s a better sensation to focus on than the tears running down her cheeks.

“Kal was just starting in the league, traveling every few days; he couldn’t raise a thirteen-year-old,” she says. “So he took me to the Danvers. Jeremiah was Clark’s basketball agent at the time. The Danvers took me in without hesitation … and eventually, I found my second family in them.”

Kara lets out a deep exhale. “I know I was so, so lucky to find the Danvers. But at first, it was a little … rough. I had a hard time adjusting. I saw my entire world destroyed in a single fire — I lost everyone and everything I knew — and then, next thing, I was left all alone in a brand new place surrounded by strangers.”

Lena’s hand finds hers and it means everything, assuaging the ache in her heart enough to continue. It’s a moment of mutual understanding, indescribably devout.

Kara chuckles awkwardly. “Alex was not exactly my biggest fan at first. I barely spoke, and yet everything I did seemed to offend her somehow. I was the new, weird kid at school who had just lost her whole family. I wasn’t very good at making friends then, and I didn’t try to be, because wouldn’t I just lose them too?”

Kara wipes away a tear before continuing. “Anyways, the one thing I did still have was basketball. So that’s all I did. Every free moment I had, I was in the gym shooting. It gave me something to think about that wasn’t my life; I could just shut everything off and focus.”

Lena’s thumb begins to stroke idly along the back of her hand and Kara melts under it.

“That’s why basketball is so important to me. Because of what happened with my parents, and because it saved me after,” Kara whispers. “When I joined the team for Midvale, Alex and I finally started to get along. It gave us something to bond over. I started to come back out from behind my walls — the copious amount of therapy Eliza and Jeremiah put me through helped too — and I started to feel more like myself.”

Lena gives her hand a squeeze, a spur forward.

“Soon enough, Alex and I became inseparable,” Kara gives a nostalgic smile. “True sisters. She’s my whole world now and I’m so lucky to have her. As I healed, physically and mentally, I started to remember bits and pieces of that night.”

“Your nightmares?” Lena asks.

“Yeah,” Kara exhales. “They’re always worse in December, around the anniversary of when I lost my family. But occasionally I’ll get them at other times, especially when I feel anxious or worried. I think it kicks in the survival instinct.”

“That’s not uncommon,” Lena says, sounding every bit the confident scientist. “The brain might be incredibly complex, but there’s a pattern to fear responses.”

Kara nods. “Alex’s room was right next to mine, so she’d be able to hear me. She’d come in, wake me up, calm me down, and then crawl into my bed and keep me company until I fell back asleep. She still does.”

Lena looks a bit like Kara handed her the final puzzle piece to something, but she doesn’t question it. Lena’s no fool and Kara’s sure she had some vague idea that there was something like this stirring under Kara’s surface.

“Things have gotten better,” Kara sniffles. “Time helps some. I figured out that meditating before bed helps me sleep without the nightmares, so I usually do it. That’s what I was doing before you got here, actually, that’s what _this_ was.”

Kara gestures to the yoga mat in the middle of the living room.

“You didn’t meditate when you stayed with me?” Lena questions, cocking a curious head at the mat.

“Uh, no,” Kara smiles, feeling the blush spreading across her cheeks. “… sex also helps. It’s the stress relief.”

“Ah,” Lena chuckles. “Well, I’m happy to have been of service.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Kara grins. “The pleasure was all mine, to give of course.”

Lena rolls her eyes. “Don’t even, Danvers.”

A silence passes between them both. For the first time since her arrival, Kara takes a good, full look at Lena Luthor. She’s got dark bags under her eyes — Lena’s mascara is certainly not waterproof, judging by the vertical streaks — and her cheeks lack their usual pink color. She’s absolutely gorgeous and she looks like shit.

“You haven’t been sleeping, have you?” Kara asks softly.

“No,” Lena gives a self-deprecating chuckle, glancing down at their intertwined hands. “Between my mother getting arrested and my best efforts to destroy our relationship, I’ve been terribly busy.”

“I bet.” Kara takes a deep breath to steel herself. “Lena … how are you doing? I know everything with your mom can’t be easy on you—”

The rest of her sentence is cut short as Lena practically crumbles in front of her, leaving only a husk in her place. Her eyes stare forward at something very far away, and even though Lena’s right there, it doesn’t feel like she is.

Kara squeezes Lena’s hand, ready to be the anchor now.

“Talk to me, Lena,” Kara requests. “I’m here.”

Lena gives a rueful chuckle. “What do you want to know? I’m sure you’ve already read the news and—”

“—No, I haven’t,” Kara interrupts. “I didn’t want to. I wanted to hear it from you.”

Lena’s visibly taken aback. “You … didn’t? Kara, it’s everywhere; my name is _everywhere_ , I mean—”

“—It’s not fair, to you,” Kara states. “Whatever your mom did, it wasn’t you. You didn’t do anything wrong, Lena.”

That seems to do the trick, and Lena’s able to meet her eyes once more.

“Lillian was arrested for conspiracy to commit racketeering and falsification,” Lena explains. “She was caught bribing physicians to push the newest Luthor Corp opiate, Cadmus. It was marketed as being non-addictive, but apparently that’s not quite exactly true.”

“She messed with the data?” Kara frowns.

“I doubt she did it herself,” Lena scoffs. “But yes. She’s already had her medical license revoked. It’s an absolute nightmare for Luthor Corp; there’s a catastrophic-level of damage control to be done.”

“How did she get caught?” Kara’s brow crinkles. “Lillian doesn’t exactly seem like the kind of person to leave loose ends.”

“No, she’s certainly not,” Lena rubs her forehead. “But to answer your question — it was Lex.”

“Lex?” The crinkle grows stronger.

“Lex,” Lena confirms, taking a deep inhale. “Lex noticed there were some … discrepancies. That’s why he hired Sam; she’d be able to review the finances without suspicion, and Sam _hates_ Lillian, so there was no concern of betrayal. Apparently, Lex partnered with the feds, to try and do what he could to protect Luthor Corp.”

Oh, wow. 

“Did you know?” Kara asks.

“Not at all,” Lena frowns, and her voice is undeniably raw. “My family doesn’t _do_ honesty and transparency. I do think Lex tried to warn me, though, in his own way. Last time I was in Metropolis, he told me to ‘pack sentimentally’. I think he knew it would be the last time I’d be back there for a while.”

“You can’t go home?” Kara frowns deeply.

“I’d hardly consider Metropolis my home,” Lena quips. “But not really. I mean, I can’t even go back to my apartment here, and the media frenzy is ten-times worse in Metropolis.”

Lena hasn’t been back to her apartment since Monday? Kara tries not to let her surprise show, but she’s taken aback. Lena must’ve been at Jack’s the whole time.

“Have you spoken to Lex more?” Kara looks at Lena with tender eyes.

“Some, but he’s quite the busy man now,” Lena sucks on her teeth. “Lex is—was the senior VP, so he’s now the interim CEO. Though, I suspect the Board will likely make it permanent. We’re supposed to meet on Friday.”

Kara’s head quirks. “You’re on the Board?”

Lena freezes up.

“I … yes,” Lena nods, a look of regret on her face. “I’m a majority shareholder; Lex and I inherited Lionel’s shares after he passed away. I didn’t really … ask for them.”

“Huh,” Kara mumbles. She knew Lena was involved in Luthor Corp, but not to that level. Lena kind of _owns_ a company. The only thing Kara owns is a few pairs of socks.

“I don’t tell people about it, for reasons you can imagine,” Lena says. “And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t repeat that. I … does it bother you?”

She gives Kara a deeply concerned look that threatens to break Kara’s recently-recovered heart.

“No, Lena, not at all,” Kara assures, throwing an arm around Lena’s shoulder and pulling her close. The feeling of touching her again — the warmth, the softness, the utter peace — it’s soothing beyond words. “I will always be here for you.”

“Thank you, Kara,” comes Lena’s shaky reply. She brings her free hand up to wrap around Kara’s wrist.

“You don’t really talk about Lionel,” Kara notes.

“Ah,” Lena gives a sad smile. “What is there to say? He spent his entire career building Luthor Corp from nothing into an empire. He had it all — money, a prominent physician as his wife, and a genius son to one day inherit his legacy.”

Kara notices Lena excludes herself, but doesn’t say anything about it.

“He was a larger-than-life, renowned man and the world loved him, while he was alive,” Lena continues. “And he was already dead and practically deified when Luthor Corp’s corrupt profiteering came to light.”

Kara notices the quiver in Lena’s bottom lip. “But who was he to _you?”_

Lena takes a deep breath. “He … wasn’t a bad father, at first. He always made me feel like his real daughter, even though I was adopted — almost to the point of favoring me over Lex. Lillian hated it, and I’m sure it hurt Lex. Nothing he could ever do was quite good enough for Lionel. But Lex was a good brother and never took it out on me. Lillian … Lillian did though.”

Lena gives Kara a miserable look. “I swear that’s why she’s always hated me; why I was never good enough for her. Lex was her ‘precious boy’ and could do no wrong for the longest time, until he met Mercy and started to disagree with Mother-dearest. I can’t tell you how contentious the Luthor family dinners are.”

Kara gives a sympathetic grimace. She loves food, but even that’s quite the price to pay.

“Lionel was a complicated man,” Lena continues. “He was certainly a terrible husband … he clearly didn’t love Lillian, but he stayed with her anyway, and it made him miserable. He started drinking all the time, and the man I had always seen as my loving father slowly disappeared. He would get so drunk and _so mad_ and he would scream at everyone until he was hoarse.”

“I’m so sorry, Lena,” Kara whispers, pressing a kiss into Lena’s forehead. To her relief, Lena doesn’t flinch away. It almost feels like she leans into it.

“Lex and I used to hide from him in our treehouse.” A wistful smile floats across Lena’s face. “We’d play chess and talk about all the places we’d one day build mansions. Lex would make me feel safe, even as Lionel would be storming around under us, belligerent.”

“I’m glad you two had each other,” Kara says, pulling Lena deeper into her arms.

“It’s what killed him, eventually,” Lena explains, one finger idly tracing along the lines of Kara’s muscular forearm. “Cirrhosis of the liver, terribly poetic. I was twelve. After Lionel passed away, Lillian shipped me off to boarding school; she could hardly wait to get me out of her house, and I was fine with it. Lex was in college by that time, so I hardly got to see him anyway.”

“Lena, I …” Kara trails off. She doesn’t even know what to say. All she wants is to scoop Lena up in her arms and hold her close and never let anything hurt her ever again.

“It’s alright,” Lena gives her a self-deprecating smile. “We really make quite the pair, don’t we?”

“We do,” Kara nods. “But I’m starting to realize we’re both more than that too. I-I‘ve been going back to therapy again. It sucks, but it’s worth it … maybe it would be helpful for you too?”

“I …” Lena clamps her jaw shut abruptly, as if her mind and her tongue are at war. “I … I’ve never been, admittedly.”

“It’s not scary,” Kara promises, “It’s just talking. It’s been helpful for me. It made me realize, to get through all the stuff with my family, I made myself numb. But I realize now that I can’t pick and choose what to be numb about. If I want to be happy, I have to let myself be sad too.”

“I … I’ll consider it,” Lena offers with great strain.

“That’s all I can ask,” Kara accepts. 

An uneasy silence falls over them both, neither sure of what comes next. Kara’s the brave one to set out in search of an answer.

“Well, I think we’re officially out of dead parents to talk about,” Kara jokes. “So, you’re going to have to make a choice now.”

“A choice?” Lena’s brow furrows. “What am I choosing between?”

“I have to leave in the morning,” Kara sighs, gesturing to the pile of packed bags by the door. “The team will be in Phoenix until Sunday. Since you can’t go back to your apartment … you could always stay here until Alex and I get back.”

Lena’s mouth falls open in surprise. “No, Kara, I couldn’t possibly intrude, I—”

“—I’m offering,” Kara says. “Because I want to. You don’t have to decide right now; there’s no rush. Take your time and just think about it.”

“Hmm … and what do you propose we do while I mull it over?” Lena arches a brow, extending her neck sideways in a gentle curve, and Kara can suddenly feel her pulse throughout her entire body.

“Uh …” Kara freezes, not sure how best to proceed. “Uhm …” 

The best she can do is swallow roughly. She had no such intentions of going _that_ direction, but clearly Lena has given it some thought, and frankly she’d follow Lena Luthor to the edge of the universe.

“Kara Danvers,” Lena says coyly. “Are you proposing _make-up_ sex?”

“Well …” Kara says slowly, carefully choosing her words. “Does that mean we’ve made up?”

“Perhaps. I did interrupt your bedtime meditation, after all,” Lena says. “You know, it’s fitting where you’re traveling tomorrow — I’ve always been partial to the tale of the phoenix. The idea of rebirth, it’s incredibly tempting. To be able to rise from the ash of the past.”

“We could have that,” Kara offers. “We could start again.”

“And how do you propose we do that?” Lena gives her an incredulous look. They both know each other too much to ever truly start again.

“It’s easy,” Kara shrugs. “We start over, as our genuine selves this time. I’ll show you.”

Lena arches a brow.

“Hi, I’m Kara Danvers,” Kara says, smiling softly at her. At the same time, she pulls away and sticks out a formal hand for Lena to shake. “I have terrible survivor’s guilt and a hero complex that gets me into trouble.”

“Hello, Kara Danvers,” Lena shakes her head at the ridiculousness of it all, but she reaches for Kara’s hand all the same. “I’m Lena Luthor. I have abandonment issues and a tendency to lash out when I’m hurt.”

“Hi, Lena Luthor,” Kara pulls her in close, the tips of their noses brushing. “I think we’d be good together, and I’d like to try.”

“I’d like to try too,” Lena whispers. “Because I … I love you too.”

_Lena Luthor loves Kara Danvers._

As Lena’s lips meet her own, Kara feels like she herself could outshine the sun.

_They love each other._

It’s an impossible ball of energy in the universe, exploding outwards with incredible force — the creation of everything.

_Kara Danvers and Lena Luthor love each other._

“So,” Lena takes a shaky breath, pressing her forehead to Kara’s. “What do we do now?”

Kara gives her a soft smile. “We take it one day at a time. As two people who care about each other. We’ll talk out our issues together, we’ll support each other, and we’ll have really good sex too.”

“As … partners?” Lena offers. The dimples of her smile are small and soft; it’s a tentative, guarded smile.

That simply won’t do. Kara’s in this now — and she’s not going anywhere.

“Partners until the end,” Kara reassures, sealing it with a kiss. Lena’s lips are amazingly soft and warm between her own and they belong there forever. “You’re not getting rid of me that easy, Luthor.”

The dimples reach full-force and Kara thinks, _this is what good love must feel like._

“Wouldn't dream of it, Danvers.”

“Good,” Kara informs her, “Because I’ve got plans for you.”

Without warning, Kara moves and picks Lena up into her arms. It’s not as smooth as either of them would’ve liked; Lena’s arms wrap around Kara’s neck as she squeaks in surprise.

“Kara,” Lena exclaims, holding on for dear life. “What are you—”

The rest of Lena’s sentence is lost as Kara throws the woman down on her bed.

“Hi,” Kara grins, jumping on top of Lena, straddling her.

“Hi,” Lena returns. She tries to sound annoyed, but it doesn’t work. Kara can practically see the delight and excitement twinkling in her eyes.

They kiss again and it feels like coming home. 

Clothes are shed quickly, and soon expanses of warm, soft skin are brushing up against each other. They move in a soothing, steady rhythm together. It’s gentle and tender. Kisses are, for the first time, allowed to be given deeply and freely. Nothing is held back — not orgasms, nor tears, nor feelings, nor confessions of love.

It’s undeniably raw.

“Stay tonight,” Kara begs into Lena’s parted lips, teetering on the edge.

Lena just nods vigorously, clutching onto Kara with a vigor that could bend steel. “I will … just … don’t stop, Kara, _fuck_.”

Every single molecule of air in the room is gone.

“Lena!” Kara gasps. She’s so close, nearly dangling off the edge of the precipice now, and judging by the depth of Lena’s nails sunken into her skin, the other woman is right there too.

They fall together.

Sleep comes quick and easy for them both, firmly secure and wrapped up in each other’s arms.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a fun (and morbid) science fact:
> 
> Melting point of gold: 1064 oC/ 1948 oF  
> Average temperature of a house/car fire: 816 oC/1500 oF
> 
> … so that's how each necklace survived it's respective fire.


	18. laundry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after …

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late chapter! My internet service was out all of yesterday, which obviously posed a bit of a logistical challenge when it came to uploading. Thank you all for your continued support; your kudos and comments are truly so wonderful.
> 
> A big thank-you to IcarusAndHerSun for the fantastic beta reading.
> 
> Note: There are some very basic Game of Thrones references in this chapter, but nothing of consequence if you haven't seen the show.
> 
> Warnings: mention of homophobic parents

* * *

Lena awakes in a cocoon of warmth, and it’s only in part due to the blankets covering 95% of her body.

The sunlight pours in over her, bathing her in it, and it’s beyond tranquil. She stretches under the covers, the foreign but soft cotton sheets rubbing against her bare skin. She’s in Kara’s bed. 

The Kara who loves her.

The Kara she loves.

Fuck.

She should run, right? Surely, there’s no way they get to just … be. There has to be something, some reason why this is all a bad idea, why they shouldn’t be together. Why she shouldn't give her heart to Kara. After all, to love something is to inevitably lose it, right?

But she knows it’s not. Not anymore.

_It’s to trust_ , Lena repeats wearily, a certain someone’s voice echoing around her head. _To trust that you’ll get it back._

She trusts Kara. She loves Kara.

And Kara loves _her_.

Hearing it last night had all but melted her, and it would seem to yield the exact same result this morning — initial panic aside (old habits die hard, alright?). She could almost live in this moment forever. Almost. But as warm and comfortable as the bed might be, it’s also _empty_. Lena wants to hiss in displeasure.

Where the fuck is Kara?

In the distance, Lena can hear what sounds like rummaging through the kitchen — of course, the _kitchen_ — and begrudgingly crawls out of bed to go find her precocious … whatever they are.

Partners? Why had she chosen such an ambiguous term? Were they international spies, a pair of cowboys, two idiots still a little afraid to be explicit …

Hm, alright.

As Lena rises to her feet with a stretch, she looks around the room for clothes. She doesn’t have to try hard; Kara’s set out a flannel and boxers for her, neatly folded under her currently-charging phone on the dresser corner. She tosses them on without delay. They’re soft and they smell so much of _Kara_.

Next on Lena’s list of shit to deal with is her dry, blurry contacts — she _really_ needs to stop sleeping in them. But there were more important things to do last night.

When Lena exits the bedroom, a warm sunrise is pouring into the apartment through the windows; there’s a shroud of light over the whole space. It’s pretty, but it does little for her visibility. 

Sure enough, there’s a figure in black joggers, bent at the waist, and head in the fridge. The door obscures her from full view, but it’s Kara, of course. The woman’s ass dangles tauntingly out into the walkway, and as Lena passes by on her path to the bathroom, the idea is too tempting to decline.

“Morning, darling,” Lena greets, her hand already swinging out to slap Kara’s ass as she passes by.

Only it’s not Kara’s ass.

It’s a bit rounder and a bit softer than Kara’s, and Lena realizes with a sudden acceptance this is how she dies.

At the same time, their two equally-horrified voices state, “You’re not Kara.”

Not-Kara stands and turns to face her, and Lena is _mortified_.

She just slapped Alex Danvers on the ass.

Alex breaks the silence. “No, I’m sure as hell not Kara. And I take it now that the blanket-covered lump in Kara’s bed was also _not Kara?”_

“No,” Lena gulps. No, it was certainly not — and thank god for the copious pile of blankets that had saved a naked Lena and an unsuspecting Alex from a very awkward situation.

Even worse than this one.

_She just slapped Alex Danvers on the ass._

“Alex, I am _so_ sorry,” Lena begins to apologize profusely, all the blood drained from her face. “I truly thought you were Kara.”

Alex’s intimidating mask cracks into a playful smile as she closes the fridge. “As fun as it is to see you sweat, Luthor, it’s fine. Lucy slaps my ass like twice a day.”

Alex isn’t mad. Alex isn’t going to murder her. Alright, this is still a good day.

Lena’s shoulders sag in relief, but it’s short-lived.

“What I’m much more interested in is why you’re here, in my apartment, on a Thursday morning,” Alex’s eyes narrow. “And where’s my sister?”

Lena’s stomach does a few flips. “As for the latter, I have no idea. I was hoping you maybe knew. And for the former — I came over last night to apologize to Kara.”

“You did?” Alex’s eyebrows shoot up and she crosses her arms over her chest. “And how’d that go?”

Lena swallows roughly. This is a level of honesty and sharing she was wholly unprepared for. “It went … well, actually. I don’t know how much Kara told you, but—”

“—She told me everything,” Alex states, a subtle but sharp edge to her voice. “Did you tell her everything?”

“I did,” Lena admits with an exhale. “We talked for a long while, sober this time. I recognize how badly I hurt her, and I truly am so sorry for how I reacted when she came to me.”

Alex gives her a stony, undecipherable look and Lena’s not a huge fan that apparently possessing the surname ‘Danvers’ automatically grants the ability to pierce her impenetrable walls like paper. She pulls on her fingers, waiting for Alex’s response.

Alex’s eyes narrow. “So you guys are on good terms then?”

“Yes,” Lena gulps. “I … I love her.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Alex makes a face of utter exasperation. “As long as this means you guys are done being dramatic little shitheads, thank god.”

“Oh,” Lena can feel herself flush bright red at her unnecessary admission. This whole conversation feels terribly simple and easy and it’s throwing her off. “You know, I half-expected this conversation to turn into a shovel-talk.”

The older Danvers stands tall and squares her shoulders. “It can be, if you want. I just figured: how good of a threat is it if I have to say it out loud? You know where we stand.” Alex gives her a deadly glare to accent her point, then it fades.

Lena swallows roughly and nods a breathless acceptance. She asked for that one. But in a way, she’s relieved to have had it. It makes her feel … accountable.

“Relax,” Alex breaks into another soft smile. “I’m sure you could use it; I’ve seen the news.”

Oh, fuck.

Lena immediately launches into defense. “Alex, I—”

“—No need,” Alex raises a hand to cut her off. “Kara says you’re different from your family, and I trust her. I don’t _love_ that she’s liable to get dragged into this media shitstorm, but you don’t have to apologize for something that’s not your fault.”

The Danvers cannot seriously be a real fucking family; where the hell do they get this endless supply of love and forgiveness from?

“So are you two dating?” Alex asks.

“I … I think so,” Lena decides. ‘Partners’ really is such fucking a vague term and she’s truly regretting her word choice now. “Kara and I haven’t actually fully discussed that point yet.”

“Hmph,” Alex grunts. “You two might want to do that.”

Lena gets a bit defensive on their behalf. “I had every intention of doing so this morning, but unfortunately that conversation requires two.”

“Kara probably just went to get food,” Alex says. “Noonan’s sticky buns are her favorite before we hit the road.”

Lena nods; she actually did know that. (She’s personally partial to something a bit less sugary and messy, but Kara has an insatiable sweet-tooth, and if she wants sugary, she usually gets it, one way or another.)

“Did Kara tell you we’re traveling today?” Alex asks, taking a sip of some sports-drink.

“Yes,” Lena nods. “Best of luck, by the way.”

“Thanks,” Alex gives her a polite smile. “Games are Friday and Saturday — you should watch them.”

Lena opens her mouth to inform Alex that she’s already planned her entire weekend schedule around being able to watch their games, when the door opens abruptly.

Kara’s eyes lock onto Lena’s the instant she’s in the apartment. 

“Hi!” she exclaims in unhindered excitement, a paper bag and a drink carrier with two coffees in her hand. She’s wearing what Lena now knows to be the Comets’ casual travel wear, her hair up but still a bit damp, with a blinding grin on her face.

“Hi,” Lena greets with an unstoppable smile, but her eyes dart over to where Alex is standing, halting Kara in her tracks.

“Alex!” Kara’s shock is immediately noticeable. “You’re … home early.”

“I am,” Alex confirms, sucking on her lip to hide her amusement. “And I got quite the greeting.”

Lena flushes bright red, which Kara misconstrues as panic.

“Alex, I can explain. Lena and I—”

Alex sweeps her hair backwards with her hands. “Lena already explained; I’m happy for you two.”

“Oh. Good,” Kara exhales in relief, coming to stand by Lena. “Coffee?”

“Thank you,” Lena smiles, taking the cup marked ‘black’ from the holder.

“Where’s _my_ coffee?” Alex interjects. “I’m the one that’s been putting up with all your overdramatic, angsty shit recently.”

“You don’t get one because you weren’t supposed to be here yet,” Kara fires back. “And what do you mean ‘angsty shit’?”

Alex gives her an incredulous look, Kara’s words an inconceivable notion to her. Lena knows it's a look that can only be exchanged between siblings.

_“What angsty shit?”_ Alex repeats. She points an angry finger at Kara first. “You’ve been an absolute terror the past three weeks. Lying about the draft? Completely unnecessary. Being a dick to your friends, the angsty midnight swim—”

“You took an angsty midnight swim?” Lena repeats, smugly enjoying the newfound mental image of Kara so worked up over their split.

“And _you_ ,” Alex wheels around to turn on Lena, who freezes up like an unsuspecting prey animal. “You’re no better. Showing up to Al’s to buy everyone shots before yelling at my idiot sister? Unbelievable. You’re both beyond overdramatic, I can’t.”

“I’m a Luthor,” Lena deadpans, willing her cheeks not to turn red. It doesn’t work. “Dramatic is the default setting.”

“You know,” Alex gives them both an unimpressed look. “One _five-minute_ conversation about how you two actually felt about the other? Would have avoided that entire dumpster fire. It’s called ‘communication’ — look it up.”

“Fuck off, Alex,” Kara groans, far redder than Lena. “You and Maggie were _so_ much worse. Why are you back so soon anyway?”

“Maggie’s roommates were hogging the bathroom and I need to shower before we leave,” Alex explains. “I went to rinse off, but there’s a spider trapped in the drain. Either go rescue it now or I’m gonna k—”

“ _No_ , Alex, don’t kill it!” Kara immediately shoves the paper bag into Lena’s hands and darts over to the fridge, haphazardly throwing her own coffee down on the counter on the way. Thankfully, the tray keeps it stable and it just slides. Kara procures a thin piece of cardboard and a clear plastic cup from above the fridge and runs into the bathroom.

Lena shoots Alex a quizzical look, still clutching the bag in surprise, and Alex shrugs. “Kara doesn’t like it when I kill the bugs.”

“That’s because they didn’t do anything wrong, Alex,” Kara objects, resurfacing. She’s got the cardboard sealing off the opening of the cup, clasped tightly between her hands. Sure enough, there’s a black spider caged inside.

With practice that can only come with repetition, Kara weaves through the living room over to the nearest window, and sets the apparatus down to push the glass open.

“Technically, you shouldn’t kill or save the spider,” Lena says. Both Danvers sisters give her a perplexed look. 

“What?” Kara frowns.

“You don’t know what the spider wants,” Lena elaborates. “And by interfering, you play god, even though it’s not within your authority.”

Alex gives a dismissive snort. “I’m not getting into an ethical dilemma over a spider; I’m gonna take a shower.”

Kara on the other hand, seems to handle it in her usual good-natured way. “Well, I’m the one with the god complex here,” she jokes. “And I say the spider lives.”

Without further delay, Kara picks up the cup, and in one swift motion tosses the spider free out the open window.

Lena’s eyebrow arches instantly. “And so you toss it out of a fourth-floor window?”

“It’s fine,” Kara says, closing the glass. “It’s too small; the terminal velocity won’t kill it.”

Kara’s sudden showcase of intelligence does more for Lena that she’d care to admit, so she deflects. “No, but the person whose head it lands on might kill it.”

“I checked!” Kara objects. “No one was walking by.”

“Sure, darling,” Lena accepts, smiling as Kara wraps her hands around Lena’s waist and pulls in close. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” Kara says, nuzzling their noses together. “I can’t believe you’re really here.”

“I’m here,” Lena says. She leans up to kiss Kara, their lips meeting softly but deep.

“I still can’t really believe it,” Kara whispers, pressing her face into Lena’s neck and pulling her in tighter.

Lena can feel her heart leap out of her chest, eager to rest in Kara’s hands. “… me too.”

“We should probably talk a bit,” Kara says, pulling away. Lena misses her warmth instantly. “But I thought it would be better over breakfast.”

Lena offers up the paper bag and Kara takes it, walking with her over to the kitchen island. They each hop up on one of the barstools; Lena grabs a paper towel (there are zero napkins in this apartment, she’s learned that already) and splits it, sliding half to Kara. Kara sets a scone on Lena’s makeshift napkin and two giant sticky buns onto her own.

“There’s another scone in the bag if you want it,” Kara says, crinkling the paper shut.

“Thank you,” Lena says, pulling her scone apart. She brings a small morsel up to her mouth while Kara takes a massive bite out of her first sticky bun. A bit of icing gets smeared over the corner of the blonde’s mouth, and Lena can’t help herself as her thumb quickly swipes it away.

Kara melts right in front of her, subjected to the lethal combination of sugar and Lena’s affection.

“I’m sorry about Alex,” Kara says, once she’s recovered. “I really didn’t know she’d be back here so early.”

“It’s alright,” Lena assures. “We had a good talk.”

Kara gives her a grim look. “Did she threaten to cut off your balls too?”

“No?” Lena gives a startled chuckle. “What?”

Kara’s face relaxes as she takes another bite of pastry. “That was her reaction when she found out James and I were dating.”

“Ah,” Lena says, stifling a laugh. “No, I made it out relatively unscathed.”

“Relatively?” Kara gives her a concerned look.

“Alex was great,” Lena assures, resting one hand on Kara’s forearm. “Truly.”

Kara relaxes under her touch. “Okay, good.”

Lena takes a deep inhale. “Though, Kara, I would … appreciate it if we keep _this_ quiet for a little while.”

“Oh,” Kara says, swallowing roughly.

“Because of my mother,” Lena quickly adds. “It has nothing to do with you. I just think it would be wise to wait until things die down before you start to associate your name with mine.”

Kara seems to accept the wisdom to her words. “That’s … fair. I wouldn’t want to add to everything else you’ve got going on right now. But Lena, I—just know, I’m not ashamed to be associated with you. I’m proud of it.”

“I know, darling,” Lena murmurs. “I believe you.”

Kara smiles at her and all is well.

“Have you thought about my offer at all?” Kara asks, starting on her second sticky bun.

Lena freezes. “Your offer to stay here?”

“Yeah.”

“I … have,” Lena admits. “It’s a more appealing option than Jack’s, I’ll admit. I love him but he’s terrible about putting down the toilet seat. I almost fell into the toilet in the middle of the night, _twice_.”

“That’s hot,” Kara teases, winking. “That’s one way to get wet.”

Lena rolls her eyes and gives Kara’s shin a playful kick. “Don’t even, Danvers.”

“If it’s a better option, why do you seem like you don’t wanna stay here then?” Kara asks. 

“I’m … conflicted,” Lena says. “I do want to stay, but I don’t want to be an intrusion. I—”

Kara and Lena stop talking as the bathroom door opens.

“Don’t mind me,” Alex quips, strolling past them in nothing but a towel. “I just _live_ here.”

Kara glares at her until Alex disappears into their bedroom.

“ … I don’t want to use you,” Lena confesses. "I could easily get a hotel room; I've just been staying at Jack's to … process everything. It's a familiar environment."

“No, Lena, you’re not using me,” Kara swears. “I offered because I wanted to, and because you deserve to feel comfortable and safe. You absolutely do not need to get a hotel room; here is much better and homier. I figured Jack could go to your place and bring you whatever things you’d need here — I did save your toothbrush, though — and you can borrow any of my clothes.”

Kara saved her toothbrush? Toothbrush … the one from December, that toothbrush?

Lena crams that right into the ‘Process Later’ file. It’s been overflowing recently.

“I … you’ve actually thought about this, haven't you?” Lena realizes.

“Yeah,” Kara nods. “And if you need money or anything, I have—”

“Need money?” Lena cocks her head. “For what?”

“For food or whatever,” Kara explains. “Don’t rich people’s accounts always get frozen when they get arrested?”

The look of innocent concern on Kara’s face is too precious to laugh at, no matter how much Lena might itch to.

“Thank you, Kara, but I don’t need money,” Lena assures. “What Lionel left me has always been kept separate from the family pot, so I’m quite alright. Besides, Lex negotiated protections for most of the Luthor Corp assets.”

“Oh, good,” Kara exhales in relief. “Is there anything you do need?”

The question catches Lena off-guard. She can’t remember the last time someone asked her that. It sends butterflies down her bones; she forgot how much Kara makes her feel _cared_ for. She’s just about to reiterate her love when the bedroom door swings open and Alex walks out, matching Kara.

“That other scone,” Lena deflects, and Kara removes it from the bag with a flourish.

“As you wish, princess,” Kara jokes, setting it in front of her.

Lena makes a face. “That‘s what Lex calls me. Perhaps a different term of endearment?”

Kara’s grimace is immediate. “Yep, yep, I will pick a different one. Sweetie? Sugar? Snookums?”

Alex retches from across the island, saving Lena from having to craft a diplomatic response.

“Oh, shut up,” Kara throws her balled-up paper towel at her sister. “You call Maggie ‘babe’ _constantly_. It’s painful.”

“Grow up,” Alex beans it back. “It’s a normal thing to call your girlfriend!”

“It hurts my tender, baby ears,” Kara continues, throwing the paper bag this time.

“I’ll hurt your tender, baby ass,” Alex threatens.

“Wow, threats before a game day?” Kara scoffs. “Keep it up and you’re getting the middle seat on the plane.”

“Oh, no, I am _not_ sitting next to you on the plane,” Alex refutes. “Last time, you hogged the armrest the _entire_ flight.”

“Yes, you are,” Kara gives her a smug grin. “Because you don’t have any good movies on your laptop.”

Alex huffs in frustration, Kara having drawn her victory. “Fine,” she says. “But I want the aisle seat. And we should probably get going; I want to get to the locker room early. Do you have everything?”

“Yep,” Kara nods.

“Phone, wallet, keys?” Alex rattles off. Kara nods again. “Phone charger? Toothbrush?”

“Yes, Alex!” Kara insists, her cheeks turning pink in Lena’s presence. “I have everything.”

“Alright, let’s roll,” Alex says. “Luthor, you need a ride?”

Both Lena and Kara freeze.

“… Actually, Alex, Lena’s gonna stay here,” Kara says, trying and failing to sound effortless.

“Lena’s staying here?” Alex repeats, brow furrowed. “… In our apartment?”

“While we’re gone,” Kara adds. “It’s just—”

“—because of my mother’s arrest,” Lena chimes in. “There are photographers and press camped outside of my apartment building; I haven’t been able to go back since Monday. Kara only offered since you both would be gone, and I’d leave upon your return—”

“—Alex, please,” Kara pouts, pulling out the big guns.

Alex’s narrowed eyes dart back and forth between them. “Fine,” she throws her arms up in exasperation. “Lena’s probably the most expensive thing in this apartment anyway.”

Lena actually can’t refute that; it’s likely true. Besides, it’s a victory, and she’ll shut up and take it without argument.

“Anything I should know?” Lena asks Kara.

Kara hums in thought. “Wifi is ‘House Stark’,” she says. “And the password is ‘direwolves’, all lowercase.”

“House Stark?” Lena rolls her eyes. “Why am I not surprised …?”

“What?” Both Kara and Alex make an offended face.

“House Targaryen, of course,” Lena teases. “Fire and blood, that’s where the _true_ power is.”

“Oh, boo …” Kara pouts. “Ghost is cuter than any dragon.”

“I’m afraid cuteness doesn’t win wars, Danvers.”

“When GoT nights start up again, bring her,” Alex tells Kara. “We’ll make a Stark out of you yet, Luthor.”

“Game on,” Lena smirks.

“Oh, wait! Here,” Kara exclaims, digging through her jacket pocket. She pulls out a ring with four keys on it and hands it to Lena. “Might want these. The gold one is for here, ‘tiny one is the mailbox key, ‘square one is for Kal’s, and the silver one is for Eliza’s house.”

“Thank you, Kara,” Lena chuckles at the overabundance of information, sliding the keys into the flannel pocket.

“Not a scratch, Luthor,” Alex half-jokes. There are already many, many scratches around the apartment, but the sentiment is clear.

“Not a scratch,” Lena vows.

Kara lingers awkwardly between Alex, the pile of packed bags, and Lena. Alex seems to pick up on the issue.

“Here,” Alex sighs, chucking a duffel bag at Kara’s chest to grab at the backpack underneath. She catches it and tosses it down with ease.

“I’ll meet you down at the car,” Alex says. “Bring the rest of the bags with you. You two have five minutes to make out before I leave your ass here.”

Both Kara and Lena blush furiously, but neither objects at the statement. All three of them are well-aware of its validity.

“Oh, and one more thing, since my apartment is being rented out,” Alex says, popping her head back into the apartment with a triumphant smile. “As payment, I get to tell Maggie about _this_.”

Kara and Lena exchange nervous looks. They could protest, but that’s really only delaying the inevitable, and Lena can live with it. It’s just one more person. “Alright.”

Once they’re alone again, a wicked grin comes over Kara’s face. “So …” 

“Need a kiss for the road?” Lena teases, strolling up to the blonde.

“I only get a kiss?” Kara pouts. “I have five whole minutes.”

Lena sets a firm hand over Kara’s collarbone to stop her advance. “While I’ll be the first to sing your praises, even you’re not quite that talented. Besides, consider it … motivation.”

Kara smiles as Lena cups the blonde’s neck and pulls her down into a deep kiss.

“I can handle that,” Kara says.

“Remember, Kara,” Lena says, looking up at Kara with coy eyes. “I love a winner.”

“And I love you,” Kara chuckles into her lips. “I can’t believe I can say that now. … I kinda thought you might make a run for it this morning.” There’s a tremor of uncertainty in her voice.

“It … crossed my mind, albeit briefly,” Lena admits. She pulls Kara in for another kiss, long and soft, to prove the depths of her next words. “But I’m right where I want to be.”

“I’m glad. I wish I didn’t have to leave you,” Kara says, pressing her face into Lena’s neck

“I know,” Lena murmurs. “But I’ll be quite alright. Now go, Supergirl. Go win, and then we’ll see about your _reward.”_

It’s not until Kara’s boarding the plane that Lena realizes she still doesn’t have a clear term for what they are. Idiots, clearly.

* * *

Lena’s promise is more than sufficient motivation for Kara.

NCU blew out their first-round opponent, and the second-round game was hardly more of a challenge. Kara loves a good, neck-and-neck game — full of adrenaline and thrills — but at this stage in the tournament, she’s satisfied with an easy win to keep them moving on.

Winning is one thing, but winning _when Lena’s watching_ is another. Kara’s ego swells with pride after the game, and the first thing she does back in the locker room is check her phone.

**_hot girl bummer:_ ** _Congratulations, darling. You played wonderfully._

_thanks, love muffin!_

**_hot girl bummer:_ ** _Keep trying, Danvers._

_it was worth a shot lol_

_catch up with you in like an hour or so? we should be back at the hotel by then_

**_hot girl bummer:_ ** _Don’t rush; I’ll be up late tonight. I’m currently working on a rather perplexing project._

_can’t wait to hear about it! catch you later honeybuns!_

**_hot girl bummer:_ ** _Kara, that’s even worse._

Kara just chuckles, irreverently pleased with herself, and begins to strip out of her uniform to go hop in an ice bath.

The post-game buzz lasts for a pleasantly long time. The team’s advancing in the tournament, and just because it was an easy time doesn’t mean it wasn’t also exciting. And excited is exactly what Kara is. In more ways than one.

So once she’s washed up and relaxing in bed, letting her sore body decompress, she texts Lena again with mischief in mind.

_so what’s this project you’re working on?_

**_hot girl bummer:_ ** _I can’t tell you. I’d never live it down._

_tell me! i won’t laugh, i promise_

**_hot girl bummer:_ ** _The only reason I’m actually considering telling you is that I’m at my wits end with it._

_seriously, maybe i can help! i even have a few brain cells lying around i could use_ _…_

**_hot girl bummer:_ ** _That’s a terrible business pitch; instills zero confidence._

Kara rolls her eyes and decides to take matters into her own hands. Whatever’s got Lena so wound up, it’ll just be easier to deal with in real-time, so she taps the button to start a video call.

It only rings once before Lena picks up.

“Hi!” Kara greets. In her excitement, she positions the phone close to her face, so that it takes up a comically-large portion of her outgoing footage.

“You seem excited,” Lena notes. 

She’s sitting on one of the Danvers’ couches, in a slightly-oversized flannel of Kara’s, and she’s got on her thick black glasses. It’s beyond adorable. But what really catches Kara off-guard is her hair — it’s wavier than Kara’s ever seen, hanging down over her shoulders — and it looks impossibly soft. Lena looks so relaxed and comfortable and Kara yearns to touch her.

Soon. She’ll be back in National City tomorrow. She can barely wait.

“Uh, yeah!” Kara scoffs, grinning wildly. “We’re headed to the next round, so yeah, I’m a little excited.”

“Congratulations,” Lena smiles, and Kara falls a little bit harder at the sight of those dimples. “I have to admit, I appreciated that the team maintained such large margins in both games. It was slightly less nerve-wracking to watch.”

“Well, don’t get used to it,” Kara warns. “It’ll probably be a lot of close games from here on out.”

“Delightful,” Lena grimaces.

“I hear alcohol helps,” Kara suggests in sympathy. “You could invite Jack over for our next game.”

“He was over earlier, actually,” Lena says. “I hope you don’t mind. He brought clothes for me to wear when I head back to my apartment tomorrow, but when he saw the game on, he refused to leave until it was over.”

“Nah, that’s totally fine,” Kara chuckles. “He’s welcome over anytime. How are you feeling about going back to your apartment?”

“I … I’m ready,” Lena admits. “I’m incredibly grateful to you and Alex for letting me stay here, but I do miss my own space. Plus, I’m afraid if I go another day wearing flannels and leggings instead of heels and dresses, I might never go back.”

“Oh no, what a shame,” Kara says sarcastically. She then sends Lena a flirty look through the phone. “You always look really good in my flannels.”

“Do I now?” Lena raises a teasing eyebrow.

“Speaking of, why don’t I come with you when you go back to your place tomorrow?” Kara offers. “I could recover all my stolen clothes.”

“Thank you, Kara, but I need to do this on my own. Jess already arranged for building security to accompany me,” Lena declines. “And as far as your clothes are concerned, they weren’t stolen, they were abandoned.”

“Of course,” Kara accepts. “If you change your mind, let me know, but otherwise I’m just happy I’ll get to see you tomorrow. And they were _definitely_ stolen.”

“Likewise,” Lena smiles. “And that’s quite the accusation. Whatever happened to innocent until proven guilty?”

“Fine, but when I run out of sweatshirts to wear, I’m hunting you down. So what’s this shameful project you’ve been working on all night?” Kara asks.

Lena gives her an exasperated look. “It’s not shameful, it’s just … frustrating.”

“Tell me,” Kara eggs her on. “I want to help.”

Lena lets out a long sigh. “Fine. But seriously, Danvers, not a damn word out of you.”

“You have full Kara Danvers-confidentiality,” Kara swears. “Hit me with it.”

Lena’s camera footage goes blurry as she stands and walks somewhere else in the apartment. Kara can’t tell where exactly she is until Lena flips the camera around at the washing machine and states, “This is my project.”

“The laundry machine?” Kara frowns. “Did it break or something?”

“No,” Lena flips the camera back around to face her, and leans it up against something so she can step back and grab something out of frame. She returns clutching a blue cap, held carefully level.

“The machine is functioning fine, but it’s … vexing,” Lena frowns.

“Vexing?” Kara repeats. She’d normally be confused by all the vagueness, but Lena’s looking so terribly domestic — clad in the oversized flannel and a criminally tight pair of leggings, thick dorky glasses on — that Kara’s only half paying attention, her heart too busy swelling with affection.

“Are you listening?” Lena calls her out.

“Uh, yup!” Kara answers, quickly refocusing.

“Anyways, I pulled the machine’s schematics up, but I can’t seem to find the proper compartment for the detergent,” Lena rambles, lacking her usual effortless confidence. “I’ve checked just about everywhere, but it’s beyond elusive.”

“So, wait, what’s the problem?” Kara frowns.

In the most defeated, broken voice possible, Lena asks, “… Where does the soap go, Kara?”

The soap? Oh!

Lena Luthor doesn’t know how to do laundry.

Oh, if Lena didn’t look truly beyond frustrated right now, Kara would be dying with laughter. Instead, she does what any hopelessly in-love person would do and restrains herself to an over-amused grin.

“It goes into the drum,” Kara answers. The muscles over her ribs are starting to burn from being flexed to prevent laughter, but she tries not to let it show. “Just drop it in where the clothes go.”

Lena frowns. “Wh-where the clothes go?”

The look of utter bewilderment on Lena’s face is a true test of Kara’s fortitude. One she’s dangerously close to failing.

“Yup,” Kara sucks her traitorous lips into her mouth. “The clothes go into the giant hole in the top.”

“I’m aware,” Lena hisses, but it lacks any venomous bite. “They’re already in there.”

“Are they wet?” Kara asks.

“Yes,” Lena confirms.

“Are you wet? I know how you like it when I win.”

“Shut up,” Lena rolls her eyes. “You’re intolerable.”

“Oh, you seem to tolerate me just fine,” Kara smirks. “So the drum is full of water?”

“ _Yes._ ”

“Then just pour the detergent in,” Kara says it like it’s the simplest thing in the world. Which it arguably is, except for rich geniuses with a tendency to overthink things, apparently.

Kara watches with amusement as Lena slowly pours the blue liquid out of the cup and into the drum, a grimace on her face.

“That’s it?” Lena recaps the detergent. 

“That’s it,” Kara says. “You don’t do laundry?”

“Dry cleaning,” Lena admits, rubbing at her brow. “It’s pretentious and privileged, I know, but most of my clothes require special care. Sam taught me once, but the machine didn’t look anything like this.”

“It’s fine, Lena, I can’t exactly imagine the Luthor family all folding laundry together,” Kara says. “And yeah, it’s ‘cause it’s an old machine. Really got you all worked up, huh?”

“It was … an embarrassingly simple solution,” Lena admits. “I know more about washing machine schematics now than I’d care to admit.”

“You think too much,” Kara informs her.

Lena raises a sharp eyebrow. “And you think too little.”

“Fair,” Kara shrugs. “You look breathtaking tonight, by the way.”

Lena gives her an annoyed look, but the corner of her mouth twitches upwards. “Thank you for the assistance.”

“No problem. I’ve always thought I’d make a good handyman, you know,” Kara says, grinning. “This could be the start of my career.”

“Is this a particular fantasy of yours?” Lena asks.

“Well, I’d look hot in coveralls …” Kara continues. “And just imagine all the good I could do, solving problems for women in crisis everywhere.”

“Oh, ‘solving problems’? That’s what you’re calling it now?” Lena teases.

“That’s exactly what it would be,” Kara feigns innocence. “ _Screw_ in a lightbulb, _bang_ out a dent …”

“Lay down a _pipe_ _?”_ Lena chimes in.

Kara chuckles as a pink blush spreads across her cheeks. Lena’s wit is one of the things she loves the most. “By special request only.”

“Mmm,” Lena hums, fixing her with a look. “And how would one submit such a special request?”

If Kara didn’t know any better, she’d say this little fantasy scenario was actually doing something for Lena. Her cheeks and neck are flushed, and the tips of her ears are red … oh, it’s _definitely_ doing something for her.

“Just ask nicely,” Kara says. “You clearly don’t seem to mind the idea.”

“What?” Lena purses her lips into a pout. “Good help is hard to find.”

“Is that all I am to you?” Kara teases. “Just a helping hand?”

“That depends …” Lena gives her a sultry look. “Are you offering your entire hand?”

Is this what a heart attack feels like? Because Kara can’t breathe and her heart feels like it’s about to explode and she’s _definitely_ not able to form a single coherent thought right now.

“Relax, darling,” Lena chuckles. “I’m not that ambitious. I just wanted to remind you who’s in charge here.”

“I do feel sufficiently put-in-my-place,” Kara laughs, trying to calm the furious heat over her face.

A silence falls over them both, each clearly desiring the same thing, but both a bit unsure how to proceed.

Lena ends up being the brave one.

“Are you alone?” Lena asks, biting her lower lip. Kara can see one of her hands casually begin to unbutton the oversized flannel.

Kara’s clit throbs a demand.

“Yes,” Kara answers immediately. “Wait, give me a sec to make sure Alex doesn’t walk in.”

“Take your time,” Lena hums. “I’d rather not be interrupted by your sister.”

“Hold on,” Kara mumbles, switching from the video call over to her messages. She quickly types out something to Maggie, who will certainly be willing to negotiate a mutually beneficial arrangement.

_are you and alex still downstairs?_

**_maggie:_ ** _Yes but probably not for much longer_

_if you can keep keep alex away from our room for the next hour or so, i’ll sleep in nia’s bed tonight_

**_maggie_ ** _: Roger that. I’ll go drag her into the hot tub. Get it Little Danvers_

_thanks mags! you’re a real one_

“Yeah, I’m good to go,” Kara confirms.

“Good,” Lena smiles. “Because I do believe you were promised a winner’s reward …”

“And what might that be?” Kara asks, intentionally letting the phone slip in her hand to show Lena she’s in nothing but a sports bra. (And that her abs are flexed to the max.)

“You get to watch me fuck myself,” Lena states. “Think you can handle that?”

Lust outcompetes Kara’s impulse to gawk in awe, and before she knows it, they’ve both got their hands down their pants — well, Kara does (Lena’s not wearing any). Lena may have started this with a clear plan in mind, but the dynamic between them shifts somewhere along the midpoint.

“Kara,” Lena moans. “I …”

“Another finger, Lena,” Kara coos. “I know you can take it for me.”

Kara can pinpoint the exact moment Lena obeys, her lips parting just a fraction wider in the most painfully familiar way.

“I hate that you're not here,” Lena admits with a groan. Her face is beyond flushed and Kara imagines she’s getting close.

“I know,” Kara says. She’d give anything to be there with her, _touching Lena_ , fucking her into the couch like she wishes she was. “But I can still give you what you need.”

“Yes,” Lena gasps. “Kara, please …”

“I’ve got you,” Kara promises. “Let go.”

They both do, Lena first.

“Well …” Lena drawls, as they both come down from their high. “You continue to impress, Danvers.”

“I’m glad,” Kara smirks. “I wouldn’t want this to be you making a _poor decision_.”

“Oh, hush,” Lena rolls her eyes as Kara throws her own old and outdated words back at her.

With her orgasm, all of Kara’s adrenaline and excitement from the day — both from the game and just now — officially vacates, leaving her body tired and depleted. She can feel the inevitable pull of sleep, but there’s one more thing she needs to do first.

“Hey, Lena …?” Kara asks slowly. “When I get back to National City, do you … would you wanna go on a date with me?”

“A date?” Lena gives her a confused smile, brows furrowed. “Like a—”

“—a real date,” Kara says. “Dinner, drinks — well not for me, J’onn has us sober for the rest of the season — but like a _date_. Where we can actually call it a date.”

“J’onn won’t let you guys drink?” Lena reiterates.

“Nope,” Kara confirms. “Everyone needs to take the tournament seriously and be at peak performance. Once the season’s over, though, things will get wild.”

“I can only imagine,” Lena teases. “And to answer your question … yes, I will go on a date with you.”

Kara lets out an impossibly bright smile. “Great!”

“But Kara,” Lena says sharply. “Please, nowhere public. It’s not you, it’s just … with my mother, there will be … minimal privacy.”

“Don’t worry,” Kara insists, excitement undeterred. “I’ve got an idea.”

* * *

Kara’s idea undergoes a few revisions, but things work out better than she hoped. Their date ends up being delayed a few days until the Tuesday after the team gets back.

Kara would've done it as soon as Sunday, but the day is lost for both of them. She has a heap of homework to address after her absence, and Lena has to contend with returning to her apartment. The media frenzy has thankfully died down a little, but that evening, there are still more than a few scathing articles with Lena's face in them. She's in what she described to Kara as her 'Luthor-best': intimidating heels, an immaculate designer outfit, and sunglasses that cover most of her face. Her expression is pure ice and it's a bit jarring for Kara to see; it's a different Lena than she knows.

She feels beyond honored that she gets to see the real Lena now. When they call that night to check-in with the other, Lena seems exhausted but still herself. Her appearance seemingly rips the media-bandaid off, and in the following days, the press wanes even further. Life seems to drift back in the direction of normal; Monday night is Lena’s spin class with Andrea and it's fine.

And then Tuesday is date-night. So here they are now, on the roof of Kara’s apartment complex.

The whole arrangement came together very nicely. The roof is perfectly private and secluded. Kara ordered burgers (Lena’s favorite), and maneuvered a makeshift picnic-like setup for them to eat at. To complete the romance factor, she’s littered the area with candles (Alex’s, borrowed from their apartment, of course) and a dozen roses comprise the centerpiece. But the best part is by far the 360-degree view of the National City skyline at night.

It’s a sight that’s always filled her with an odd sense of awe and pride. It’s to feel alone and connected all at the same time. Kara imagines it’s what a single star would feel like, occupying its own little space in the galaxy.

And to share it all with Lena is even better.

Kara’s incredibly nervous at first — it’s their first official date, after all. Uncharted waters. But Lena seems thoroughly impressed by the setup, even though they’re sitting on throw pillows instead of chairs, and the table is actually just a thick cardboard box inverted and covered with a afghan. The food is delicious and the company is even better.

“So … how exactly did you manage this?” Lena asks, gesturing around the rooftop. “Are we breaking and entering?”

“Well, it would be breaking and exiting, technically,” Kara jokes. “But no, our landlady is super chill about me coming up here. I help her with her groceries sometimes, so she likes me.”

Lena gives her a curious look. “Have you always been like this?”

“Like whaph?” Kara asks, her mouth full of her final bite.

“So friendly,” Lena elaborates. “You’ve charmed my doorman into breaking the building’s rules for you, you and Al are clearly close, your landlady …”

“I’m just good at getting people to break their rules for me,” Kara winks.

“Kara,” Lena gives her an unimpressed look.

“Okay,” Kara exhales, a soft smile on her face. “To answer your question — yes and no. My parents used to tell me I could make a friend out of anyone when I was little. I … lost that for a little bit. But later, thanks to the people that were there for me, I realized you never know who else needs a friend. So I try to be that for other people now. A friend is an easy but invaluable thing to be.”

“You can’t possibly be human,” Lena remarks, looking at Kara in disbelief.

“100% human here,” Kara laughs. “Would you like me more if I was an alien?”

“Perhaps,” Lena says coyly. “You never know …” She then shivers in the cool night air.

“Are you cold?” Kara asks, eyes going soft.

“A little,” Lena admits, looking at Kara with irresistible eyes (and she knows it).

“Mmm,” Kara hums, a smug smile on her face. She can’t resist. “Should’ve brought a jacket then.”

A look of indignation crosses Lena’s face instantly. Clearly, that wasn’t the reaction she was expecting.

Lena arches a terribly sharp brow. “I admit that might I love you and you stop flirting with me?”

“Lena,” Kara gives her an exaggerated look. “I will flirt with you until the day I die, and then some. One, because I love you, and two, because you're literally one of the most gorgeous people I have ever seen.”

“One of?” Lena challenges, but the quirk of her lips is playful.

Kara gives a stoic nod. “Yeah, ‘one of’. I do have a mirror, you know.” She then cracks into a huge, self-satisfied grin as Lena rolls her eyes.

“Oh my god,” Lena sighs. “You’re incorrigible.”

“You like it,” Kara winks.

“And you had the audacity to claim you’re not a fuckboy,” Lena says.

“I’m not!” Kara pouts.

“Oh, you absolutely are,” Lena states. “If you weren’t, your jacket would already be around my shoulders.”

Kara squints at her, silent for a moment. “I think I’ve been outplayed.”

“Get used to it, darling,” Lena smirks, taking a sip of her drink. “I’m good at everything I do.”

“So am I,” Kara says, her voice dropping down an octave. 

Despite her composure, the flush of red across Lena’s cheeks and up her ears betrays her true emotions. Kara’s chest puffs up a little.

“Is that so?” Lena gives Kara a coy look, tilting her chin up. “I’m afraid I’ll need some evidence to substantiate such a bold claim.”

That look is like lightning between her thighs and Kara is positive, without a drop of uncertainty, that the ‘dinner’ part of their dinner-date is officially over. She’s so wet, it’s more like oceans, and there's only one outcome. One where Lena certainly won’t need a jacket anymore — nor Kara.

“Downstairs,” Kara states.

“But the plates—”

“—I’ll clean it up later,” Kara promises, already on her feet and invading Lena’s personal space.

“Well,” Lena smiles, fisting Kara’s shirt in her hand. “If you insist.”

They learn it’s impossible to make out while walking down a staircase, despite Kara’s best attempts, so they put things on pause long enough to walk down to Kara’s apartment like normal people. (It also saves Kara from a very embarrassing talk with J’onn about how his starting point guard sprained her ankle because she couldn’t keep it in her pants long enough to follow basic safety measures. It’s a dodged bullet, really.)

Once they’re on level ground again, Lena wastes no time pressing Kara’s back up against the wall and pinning her down with heavy kisses. Her hand fumbles with the doorknob and they fall through with a ‘pop’, Kara catching them from falling to the ground. They take a couple blind, blissful steps inwards.

“Kara,” Lena mumbles down her neck, lips leaving a trail of fire in her wake. “I meant to ask you earlier … we should really define what—”

“Looks like your date is going well.”

_Alex_ , Kara seethes.

The younger Danvers breaks apart from Lena and whips around with superhuman speed, already halfway into fight-mode.

There, sitting up and leaning over the back of the couch, is the most satisfied-looking cockblock Kara’s ever seen — _and_ her girlfriend.

“Maggie!” Kara exclaims in shock. She takes a half-step over to obscure Lena from view as Lena intertwines her fingers with Kara’s.

“ ‘sup Little Danvers,” Maggie gives her a chin-nod, looking just as delighted as Alex. "Trying to get laid on the first date? So scandalous."

_“What are you two doing here?”_ Kara hisses at Alex. She sends her sister a look so heated it’s a wonder it doesn’t melt Alex’s face off.

“It’s funny,” Alex grins. “We were going to watch a movie at Maggie’s, but then we realized a live show might be more entertaining. And it is.”

Kara sets her jaw, sucking in a furious breath.

“My power went out,” Maggie explains. “Someone blew the building’s circuit breaker.”

“Why do you even live there?” Kara sighs, her exasperation temporarily overcoming her annoyance. “It’s such a shithole.”

“Rent’s cheap,” Maggie shrugs. “And I get my own room.”

“Yes,” Kara says through gritted teeth, “That you could be using, _right now.”_

“Kara, it’s fine,” Lena pipes up, strolling out from behind her back. She gives Kara’s hand a reassuring squeeze before letting it go and walking up to Maggie.

“Lena Luthor,” she introduces herself, not that she needs it. 

“Maggie Sawyer,” Maggie shakes her hand. “You must be the one that turned this place into a florist shop a few weeks back?”

“Just supporting small businesses,” Lena replies smoothly.

“I bet.” Maggie gives a nod. “So, I hear you tamed Little Danvers over here?”

“Tamed, but not housetrained,” Lena quips, a friendly smile on her face.

“Hey!” Kara protests. It’s all just for show though; she’s too busy swelling with pride at the way Lena’s handling the situation so gracefully. It’s impressive and downright hot.

“Sorry for crashing your date night,” Maggie says to Lena. “Mostly.”

“It was intentional,” Alex informs Kara.

“Oh, I’m well aware,” Kara glares back.

“But, as a consolation prize …” Maggie says, turning around to grab something off the coffee table. “We got you two some extra tiramisu. If you don’t want it, I’ll eat it though.”

Dessert! Kara’s whole face lights up the instant it’s in her eye line. “Well, I guess that helps …!”

Lena shoots her a look. _Does it, Kara?_

“It’s _tiramisu_ , Lena,” Kara states, plopping down on the adjacent couch. “Maggie knows where to find the best ones. You have to try some.”

It’s amazing and delicious and it ameliorates Kara’s annoyance with ease.

“Alright,” Lena concedes, joining Kara and accepting the offered fork. “But I won’t forget you would rather have tiramisu in your mouth than my tits.”

Kara chokes on her second bite, Alex sprays water everywhere, and Maggie begins to chuckle madly.

“ _Lena Luthor_ …” Maggie grins. “I like this one, Little Danvers.”

Kara’s still sucking air as Alex mumbles, “Oh my god …” 

The older Danvers scurries off in search of paper towels. Lena rubs Kara’s back idly as she coughs, still trying to recover her breath.

Kara’s fine — caught off guard, certainly — but she’s come to realize recently, that’s how Lena seizes control. It’s not the first time Lena’s wrangled control of a conversation with blunt discussion of sex. Kara had just erroneously assumed that was exclusive to their private conversations. But nope. And even if this means Kara will be on the receiving end of so, _so_ much shit for the next few days, she’s happy to concede her pride for Lena’s comfort.

Eventually, Kara chokes the tiramisu down and can breath again.

“Lena …?” Kara gawks. Her face must be a brilliant red; she can feel it.

“That’s gross,” Alex informs Lena, the entire paper towel roll in her hand as she walks back over. “I didn’t need to hear that.”

“And Kara and I didn’t need to have our date interrupted for entertainment’s sake,” Lena fires back. “But now I can be sure you’ve been sufficiently entertained.”

_Lena’s talking back to Alex._ Kara’s never felt a panic quite like this, but apparently it’s the right move. Both Alex and Maggie seem impressed — and certainly entertained by Kara’s discomfort, if nothing else.

“Alex told me about you two and I had to see it in the flesh,” Maggie explains. “I still don’t quite believe my eyes, but I’m happy for you both.”

“Really?” Kara gives her an unbelieving look. “That’s it …?”

“That’s it,” Maggie confirms. “It’s that easy. Well, there is one thing …”

Kara’s heart plummets as Maggie turns to look at Alex, who has the biggest shit-eating grin on her face.

“So, when are you telling everyone?” Maggie asks. “Alex said I gotta keep my mouth shut for a little while.”

Kara nods. “We’re keeping it a secret for a little bit.”

Beside her, Lena takes an unsteady breath and begins to say, “Because of my m—”

“—basketball,” Kara interrupts. “Because of basketball. I asked Lena if we could keep it a secret until the season’s over. Things are going so well for us and I don’t want to disrupt that, and this is all still so new.”

Both Alex and Lena give her a curious look, but Maggie is unfazed. Kara can feel from the new tension in Lena’s shoulders that they’ll be discussing things more later.

“Damn,” Maggie frowns. “Well, when you do, make sure Lucy and the boys are all there. I want my money.”

“Oh, Mike already—” Kara stops abruptly. “Wait, your ‘money’? What money?”

“Lucy started a betting pool, back in November,” Maggie says. “We all had to guess who your ‘hot girl bummer’ was.”

Kara groans. Of course she did. Kara herself has fallen into that trap many times; she’s pretty sure that’s how Lucy funds her mildly-alarming coffee addiction.

“What did you say?” Kara glares at Alex.

“Hey, I did _not_ participate!” Alex raises her hands up in her defense. “I don’t enjoy talking about my sister’s sex life.”

“You enjoy cockblocking it,” Kara grumbles under her breath.

“But I take it _you_ did,” Lena says, looking pointedly at Maggie.

“I did,” Maggie smiles, bringing out the dimples on her cheeks. “Winning pot’s a hundred dollars, and when you two hurry up and decide to tell people, it’s all mine.”

“Well, I’m sure Kara and I could be convinced to revisit our stance,” Lena negotiates with expert ease. “For a cut of the winnings, of course.”

Maggie breaks out into another pleased chuckle. 

Alex, on the other hand, is not as amused. “Wh-what do you even want the money for, Luthor? You don’t need it!”

“Nothing in this world is free, Alex,” Lena taunts. “And if you’re going to make a profit off of Kara and I, I’m sure as hell going to see some sort of payout.”

There’s a surge of pride that warms Kara’s chest. That’s her fuckin’ girl. (Her girl!)

“Wait, but Maggie — why did you guess Lena?” Kara asks.

“Do you wanna tell them, or can I?” Maggie asks Alex.

“Tell us what?” Kara eyes Maggie suspiciously.

“That Maggie’s known since October,” Alex states.

Kara’s eyebrows threaten to fly off the top of her face. “What?!”

“Guilty as charged,” Maggie nods, a smug smile across her face.

_“How?”_ Kara’s crinkle threatens to become a permanent fixture.

“Easy,” Maggie leans forward in a self-assured air. “One Sunday in October, Alex meets me for lunch, very distracted and agitated. Turns out, Lena Luthor — of all people — had shown up to her apartment that morning, wanting to talk to Kara. Understandably, we were both confused, as we knew you two couldn’t stand each other. Or so we thought.”

Both Kara and Lena glance awkwardly around the room. 

“But we couldn’t figure out the whole picture,” Maggie says. “Until Alex later tells me the reason _why_ Lena had come by — to return your debit card that you ‘left at Al’s’ the night before.”

Kara’s heart rate picks up. That was the lie she and Lena had spent their entire coffee date crafting, and Kara had truly thought it held up perfectly.

“Which I thought was odd, because Al had been doing his biller-millers special that night,” Maggie says. “No one uses a card to pay for one-dollar beers in a dive bar with a frankly criminally-high card minimum.”

Kara can feel the color drain from her face. She _had_ used cash that night; a handful of singles crammed into her pants pocket.

“So clearly, Lena wasn’t there to return your card.” Maggie’s chest puffs out in satisfaction. “The closest thing would’ve been your V-card, but we all know that ship sailed a long time ago. So you two had to be banging.”

Fuck.

“So you knew the whole time?” Kara asks her sister, feeling defeated. She thought they had been so careful and clever.

“No,” Alex states, sounding a bit miffed. “Maggie didn’t tell me.”

The crinkle returns. “Why?”

“Couldn’t prove it for sure,” Maggie shrugs. “I try not to get involved in other people’s relationships. Besides, I had a feeling that telling Alex would turn her into a terror, and I didn’t want to deal with that while our season was just starting.”

Alex sends her girlfriend a glare, but Maggie just shrugs it off. It’s clearly not the first time they’ve had this conversation.

“I don’t feel that way, anymore,” Alex assures Lena. “Kara … advocated for you.”

“She’s good at that,” Lena says, not irritated by the advocacy this time around. “But don’t worry, Alex, I wouldn’t have taken it personally. Most people would rightfully be bothered by the idea of their little sister in bed with a Luthor.”

“We’re cool then?” Alex asks.

Lena nods. 

“Anyways, that was back in the fall,” Maggie says. “Once you two started pulling that shit with rides to practice in Lena’s expensive-ass car, Lucy started to suspect I was right. The only other chick Kara knows with that kind of cash is Veronica, and we all know what her car looks like—”

“—Veronica once tried to hit me with it in the parking lot,” Kara quickly slips into conversation.

“—so Lucy realized the odds of it being Lena—”

“—wait, _Veronica Sinclair_ tried to hit you with a _car?”_ Lena exclaims, gripping Kara’s bicep in surprise.

“Yup,” Alex and Maggie confirm at the same time, as nonchalant as the color of the sky.

“It wasn’t going that fast,” Kara adds. “I was fine. She was just a little angry.”

Lena’s eyebrows fly upwards and Kara gulps. Maybe that wasn’t the best detail to contribute.

“Anyways,” Maggie reroutes them back to the main conversation. “When you two decide to tell people, I doubt they’ll be as surprised as you think.”

Maggie’s words hang in the air for a moment as Kara and Lena both shift on the couch.

“Even after my mother’s arrest?” Lena questions. “My family is public-enemy-one right now.”

“We all love Kara,” Alex chimes in. “And we trust her judgment. You deserve a chance to be your own person, Lena.”

“And,” Maggie adds. “We’ve all got shitty families of our own. Seriously, the Danvers are like the only fully-functional family out of the bunch. And arguably the Olsens.”

“Well, thank you, both,” Lena looks pointedly at Alex and Maggie. She’s poised as ever, but Kara can tell from the set of her jaw that she’s starting to get overwhelmed.

“Did you guys want to stay here tonight?” Kara asks them. “We can always go back to Lena’s.”

“Nah,” Maggie declines, rising to her feet. “I should probably get back and make sure my roommates haven’t flooded the place or something next.”

“I’ll go too,” Alex volunteers. Kara shoots her sister a grateful look, relieved that she’s done trying to make Kara’s life difficult for the night.

They all stand and shift over to the foyer by the door.

“Nice to formally meet you, Luthor,” Maggie nods a goodbye. “I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

“I would imagine so,” Lena smiles politely.

“Love you,” Alex tells Kara, nodding a separate goodbye to Lena.

“Yup, love you too,” Kara says, closing the door behind them a little too quickly. She then whips around to find emerald eyes already slightly wet with tears “Lena, I am so sorry, I had no idea—”

Kara quickly wraps her arms around Lena and pulls her close. “Are you okay? Talk to me, please.”

“I’m fine, Kara,” Lena assures, carefully swiping a single finger at the corner of her eye. “I’m just … are all your friends like that?”

“Like what?” Kara frowns. “Invasive and overbearing? Yeah, unfortunately.”

“No,” Lena chuckles. “Understanding. I’ve literally never had a conversation with Maggie Sawyer in my life, and yet that’s one of the nicest initial interactions I’ve ever had with someone new.”

“Oh,” Kara realizes.

“Most people wouldn’t touch a Luthor with a ten-foot pole,” Lena continues. “Yet you and your friends seem to pay little mind to that.”

“Come sit,” Kara says, pulling Lena back to the couch. They end up spooning — Lena little and Kara big — idly watching an old episode of _Homeland_ that had been left on by Alex and Maggie.

“What are you worried about?” Kara asks. Her arm is thrown over Lena’s waist, pulling her close against her own chest.

“I … I’m not very good at the ‘meeting the friends’ thing,” Lena admits. She clutches at Kara’s splayed hand on her lower stomach, nervously running her finger pads down the lengths of Kara’s fingers. “Let alone ‘meeting the family’.”

“Well, you did great tonight,” Kara assures. “Alex told me she likes you.”

“Really?” Lena snorts in disbelief.

“Really,” comes Kara’s painfully genuine answer. “She might tease the shit out of you, but that’s a good sign. And I think you stole Maggie’s heart tonight. They both respect you.”

“That’s … good to know,” Lena takes a deep inhale, as if allowing herself to soak in Kara’s words.

Kara presses a gentle kiss to the top of Lena’s temple in an act of worship and she melts like butter under it.

“The rest of my friends and family will love you too,” Kara promises. “Give them a chance to.”

“But, Kara, my family …” Lena trails off, clearly drowning under a massive emotional burden. “I’m a _Luthor_. Lillian’s arrest hardly did my family’s reputation any favors; I imagine it just validated what everyone already thought of us. But you didn’t need to lie about the reason why we’re keeping things quiet either.”

“I’m sorry, I just … I didn’t want you to feel pressured into explaining yourself. But look, Mags is right,” Kara says. “You’re not the only one of my friends with a messed-up family. They know how to look past that.”

“I would think that’s a high bar to surpass,” Lena says ruefully, arching a brow to request a further explanation.

“Well, I already told you Lucy’s dad is a five-star asshole,” Kara says. “Mike’s mom is, to put it nicely, a horrible person. Nia’s sister is … something else. Brainy has a bad relationship with his mom too. Oh, and Winn’s dad’s in prison.”

“That’s … more common ground than I would’ve expected,” Lena admits. “I never realized …”

“You wouldn’t,” Kara says. “We all have each other and we get by. Family is made by choice, just ask Maggie.”

“Maggie?” Lena’s brow furrows.

“Maggie’s parents kicked her out for being gay,” Kara says. “They’ve barely spoken since.”

“Oh,” Lena takes a sharp inhale. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Mags wouldn’t want your pity,” Kara squeezes Lena in her arms. “Besides, she’s an honorary Danvers now; she spends all the holidays and the breaks with us. I love her like a sister.”

“Mmm,” Lena hums, lost in thought.

“You know, that’s why I brought you to meet Barry,” Kara mentions.

“What?” Lena stills.

“I just … Barry lost his parents and was adopted,” Kara says. “But he still got his chance to build a new family. I guess I wanted to show you that people like us still have a chance at happiness. That it’s okay to hope for it.”

Lena twists in Kara’s arms, turning to face her with a soft glare. “I’m not wearing waterproof mascara, Kara.”

“You look pretty when you cry,” Kara replies. “It’s okay to be soft sometimes.”

Lena rolls her eyes, dabbing at the corner where a tear threatens to spill over. “You’ve made me into an absolute sap.”

“Tsk, you’ve always been a sap, Luthor,” Kara smiles softly. “You just can’t hide it anymore.”

“And it’s all your fault,” Lena scoffs. 

“Blame me all you need to,” Kara grants. “But start letting yourself be _Lena_ , not just Lena Luthor. You deserve that.”

“I … I will try," Lena says. It’s an olive branch of immense effort, and that’s not lost on either of them.

“Good,” Kara grins, kissing her way down Lena’s neck. “Now, where were we?”

“Unfinished — _oh_ — business, Danvers?” Lena gasps as Kara hits a particularly sensitive spot.

“Not for long.”

(The plates stay up on the roof for the next six days until Kara finally remembers them. It’s worth it.)

* * *


	19. a thread of fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara and Lena try that ‘communication’ thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updating a lil early this week. I appreciate you all and the support you've continually given this story; it's been such a fun project to share because of it. As always, my thanks to IcarusAndHerSun for the beta reading, truly a lifesaver.
> 
> Notes: The chapter count has increased again. Sorry to keep changing things up on anyone that likes structure. I promise the story is planned in its entirety; I have a certain number of scenes left until the end, I just have no idea how long they are until I actually finish fleshing them out. (The storyline will run all the way until the end of their school year to have a chance to explore their dynamic as a couple, just for reference.) Thanks for hanging in there with me.

* * *

When Lena wakes up the next morning, she allows herself to ponder the idea of being just _Lena_ , not Lena Luthor.

She’s not really sure what that would even look like. But if it looks something like this, she might just be alright with it.

Kara and her are spooning together in Kara’s bed. It’s early still; there’s no sunlight trickling in through the windows yet, but it’s not missed. Kara is a sun in and of herself; bright and warm and vital. Her mostly-bare skin is almost inhumanly hot against Lena’s. Kara’s arm is also wrapped around Lena’s waist, holding her close, and Kara’s face is nuzzled into the space between Lena’s shoulder and the bed sheets.

“Mmm, darling,” Lena murmurs. “You’re very warm.”

“Good morning,” Kara mumbles, popping her head up on Lena’s other shoulder. She presses a tender kiss to the pale skin there before using it as a chin rest. “Am I too warm?”

“No,” Lena says, cupping one of her hands over Kara’s hands. It’s resting perilously close to one of her tits, but Kara seems too sleepy still for it to be intentional. “We might have to revisit that question come summertime, but it’s pleasant for now.”

Come summertime. It’s an implicit suggestion of a future. And _she’s_ the one that made it. Lena freezes for just the smallest second.

Kara seems to sense it and pulls her tighter against the blonde’s chest. Lena melts again, getting progressively more used to the sensation.

“I can do that,” Kara promises. “What time is it?”

“You tell me,” Lena chuckles. “The phones are on your side.”

Kara grumbles a complaint as she’s forced to release Lena and roll over in the direction of her makeshift nightstand.

“Don’t grumble,” Lena teases. “You’re the one who put your bed against the corner.”

“It’s only six,” Kara informs her, re-wrapping herself back around Lena once more. “And that’s not my fault; I had to! It’s the only way Alex and I could get both beds to fit in this room.”

“You could’ve gotten a twin bed,” Lena points out.

“No …” Kara groans into the skin of Lena’s shoulder. “I can’t bring my hookups back to a _twin bed_. It’s like having sex in a childhood bedroom; that’s the ultimate cockblock.”

Lena snorts. “You and I both know that’s not true. You’ve had sex in a bathroom stall, so I hardly imagine a twin bed would stop you. Alex, on the other hand, does seem to be a rather efficient cockblock in your life.”

“Ugh, tell me about it,” Kara grimaces. “I’m sorry again about last night. I would’ve warned you if I knew her and Mags would be home.”

“It’s alright,” Lena pulls Kara’s hand up to her mouth to press a kiss to her curled fingers. She lets out a little involuntary shiver when she feels how cold the back of Kara’s hand is. “How is it that your body runs so hot, yet your hands are constantly freezing?”

“Cold hands, warm heart?” Kara quotes the old saying.

Lena can accept that. She’s never met a warmer heart. “Mmm, fine.”

There’s a moment of silence and Lena can practically feel Kara thinking.

“You know,” Kara says slowly, a playful lilt to her voice. “I could always warm them up …?”

“Could you now?” Lena raises an eyebrow, turning her head so that Kara can see it. “And did you have a particular strategy in mind?”

“Well …” Kara drawls. “That depends what time you need to get up.”

“Not until seven,” Lena offers.

“6:45 for me,” Kara says. “But I can work with what I’ve got.” 

Without further adieu, Kara starts kissing her way down Lena’s shoulder and up her neck. Lena arches her neck into Kara’s warm lips, offering up additional landscape. Kara shifts again as she moves, jostling Lena in her arms, and Lena’s legs slide against Kara’s — the reaction is instantaneous the second Lena’s toes find the warmth of Kara’s calf.

“Fuck, Lena!” Kara practically spasms in shock. “Your feet are freezing!”

Unable to resist Kara’s compelling warmth, Lena places her foot over as much of the heated surface as she can manage.

“Jeez!” Kara hisses. She gives Lena an unhappy yet not unpleasant squeeze. “Are you trying to torture me?”

“Perhaps. I am an ice queen, after all,” Lena muses, sliding her foot down Kara’s leg. It catches on the lip of some fabric and Lena frowns. “Wait, when did you put socks on?”

“I always sleep in socks,” Kara says. “You never noticed?”

A sheepish look crosses Lena’s face. “No, I … I suppose my attention might have been elsewhere.”

“Elsewhere, huh?” Kara smirks. “I wonder where that might’ve been.” Kara’s hand, now pleasantly warm again, begins to slip up Lena’s chest to cup a soft mound of flesh.

“You seem to have recovered from your recent tor–ture,” Lena’s breath hitches right at the end, as Kara’s fingers find her nipple.

“Feeling better by the minute,” Kara jokes. “There’s only so much heat you can leech out of me before we hit equilibrium.”

Lena doesn’t fully understand why her idiot body reacts this way — nor is she exactly a big fan of it — but for whatever reason, the instant Kara Danvers says anything vaguely scientific, it’s like a match straight to the wick of her libido.

“Kara,” Lena says, not bothering to hide the lust in her voice. “… please.”

“I got you,” Kara promises. 

She shifts up onto her arms so that Lena can roll onto her back and Kara can hover over her. Kara uses a firm knee to part Lena’s bare thighs and slides it up right where Lena needs it. The sudden pressure is more than welcome and Lena grinds down onto it out of instinct. Her back arches off the sheets slightly, and Kara takes the window to slide one hand under her to cup Lena’s ass. 

“Do you think I’m a boob-girl or an ass-girl?” Kara asks, trying and failing to keep a serious face. “I can’t decide.”

“ _Please_ shut up,” Lena demands with a roll of her eyes, but there’s still a good-natured smile on her face. “I can’t stand you.”

“Sure you can’t,” Kara winks, sliding Lena’s legs even further apart. “We both know that’s not true.”

“One more comment out of you and I’m instituting a ‘no talking during sex’ policy,” Lena threatens. It’s very much a bluff and Kara knows it.

“No you won’t,” Kara’s lips twist up into a cocky smile as she leans in for a deep kiss. “Because then you wouldn’t get to hear how you're so _good_ for me.”

Kara takes that exact moment to slide her fingers in, and it’s the only thing that saves her life. What was about to become an absolutely murderous glare from Lena is disarmed by the sudden pleasure of having Kara inside her, and Lena’s eyes roll back harmlessly in her skull.

“I hate you,” Lena pulls Kara in for another kiss, biting the blonde’s lower lip.

“I love you too,” Kara returns.

“You’re such a fuckboy,” Lena informs her. The amused smile across her face and the love in her eyes betrays her true feelings. “It was a terrible decision to ever get in bed with you.”

“I don’t think you actually believe that.”

Lena’s protests grow weaker as Kara continues.

“… _such_ a mistake …”

“Is that right?” Kara teases, both in tone and in action. Her fingertips are dancing right around Lena’s favorite spot and she knows it. It’s driving Lena insane.

“ _Kara_.”

“Okay, I’ll stop,” Kara says, chuckling. “After all, the game clock's running, and I _always_ finish in time.”

They both do.

* * *

Basketball has really started to cramp Lena’s life. 

At first it was just her sex life, back in October. Then it was her love life, with all the draft drama that went down between her and Kara. And now it’s just straight-up her entire life, as basketball is currently limiting her time with Kara to a precious few nights a week.

And tonight’s the last one — the Comets are leaving again tomorrow for another weekend on the road, the next stage of the national tournament.

Which is why, even though Lena’s got a ton of homework to do, she’s invited Kara over, craving the other woman’s presence. And while she’s over, maybe they can get around to clarifying _what_ exactly they are to each other now.

So now Kara’s chilling on the couch in Lena’s apartment, watching the Comets’ recent game film with rapt interest while Lena attempts to write a lab report. ‘ _Attempts’_ being the key word there, as the sounds of the basketball game quickly overwhelm her senses — whistles, squeaking, yelling sounds — and it’s stressing her the fuck out.

Does Kara seriously not have _anything_ else to do but watch basketball?

She’s almost worse than Lex. Almost.

“Why don’t I ever see you doing homework?” Lena asks out of the blue, frowning at the top of Kara’s head sticking up from the couch.

“What?” The TV pauses and Kara’s face pops up to face Lena across the room. “What’d you say?”

“Don’t you have homework?” Lena repeats.

“Yeah, this,” Kara gestures over her shoulder at the TV. A piece of licorice hangs out of her mouth (where in the world Kara got it from in Lena’s barren apartment, she has no idea — though she suspects Kara may be forming a secret stash of food somewhere on the premises).

“Stroking your ego is considered homework now?” Lena raises an eyebrow.

Kara gives a little pout. “I’m watching film! It’s for _strategy_ , Lena, not for my ego.”

“Do tell,” Lena challenges.

“I’m looking to see what we did well our last couple games, and what we need to improve on. Play goes way too fast to catch everything as it happens; this way, I can see things I might’ve missed during the game,” Kara’s brow furrows. “Did you not watch film for fencing?” 

“I … I never needed to,” Lena admits. “I remembered every bout in its entirety.”

Every stroke, every flourish, every mistake. That particular talent had been both a blessing and curse — allowing Lena to hone her abilities rapidly, but it also led to some rather obsessive behaviors too.

“Oh,” Kara gives the notion a ponder. “That’s handy.”

“More or less,” Lena says. “It made it easier to fix my mistakes quickly, but it also made it easy to obsess over every little imperfect detail.”

“Oh,” Kara grimaces. “I can see how that would be bad.”

“Still, I suppose I should be grateful for it,” Lena muses.

Kara gives her a thoughtful look. “You have a really good memory, don’t you?”

“It’s … better than average,” Lena admits.

“Like how good?” Kara squints at her. “What were the scores of my last two games?”

“90-58 and 87-68,” Lena answers automatically.

“What date did we first hookup?”

“September 1st,” Lena rattles off. “But—”

“How many orgasms did I give you that night?”

“Kara.”

“Sorry,” Kara gives her a sheepish grin. “I was having fun.”

“I could tell,” Lena remarks, but it’s all in good-humor. “And while I am aware of the purpose of watching film, I’m curious as to why you’re doing that instead of any of the classwork you missed last week, and are about to miss more of … ?”

“Because this is the most important thing on the list,” Kara says simply.

“While I’m sure that’s how you’d rank it, I would imagine your professors would disagree,” Lena says. “Besides, don’t you have deadlines?”

“Well …” Kara gives her a toothy, uncomfortable grin. “Not really? Things like due dates are kinda … _flexible_ for athletes.”

“Flexible?” Lena challenges.

“Yeah,” Kara’s voice is about two octaves higher than usual. “It’s just … we’re making the school _a lot_ of money, hence … _flexible_.”

Lena arches a wicked brow. “How flexible?”

“Uh,” Kara flushes red. “Like ‘try your best’ flexible? Like flexible enough I don’t technically have to turn anything in until a week after our tournament run ends?”

“You’re joking,” Lena deadpans. That means the sounds of whistles blowing and buzzers blaring and sneakers squeaking will fill her apartment until Kara finishes with her film. It’s audio purgatory. And Lena can’t very well kick Kara out of the apartment, especially after inviting her over, but that noise will certainly drive her insane by the end of the hour.

Apparently, the distress Lena feels is evident from the outside as well.

Kara stays still as a deer for a moment, lips slightly agape as she tries to figure out what the source of Lena’s distress is. “Should I … do you _want_ me to do homework?”

“I don’t know,” Lena sighs, rubbing at her brow.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Kara frowns. She swiftly vaults over the back of Lena’s couch and strolls over, squatting down beside Lena’s desk chair.

“Nothing, I’m fine,” Lena brushes off, resigning herself to her fate.

A warm hand settles over Lena’s knee as Kara kneels by her side. “Lena,” she requests, so tender and gentle Lena can’t help but indulge her. “Talk to me, please. What’s wrong?”

“It’s … your film. The noise is terrible,” Lena grimaces. “It’s loud and highly distracting, and not in a pleasant way.”

“Oh!” Kara exclaims in relief, popping to her feet. “Lena, that’s totally okay! I’ll just mute it, I’m sorry.”

“Oh,” Lena exhales. “Kara, are you sure? It’s so trivial, I can always—”

“Lena,” Kara states, cupping Lena’s face between her hands and shifting so Lena’s looking up at her. “You’re trying to do work. I don’t need to hear the game sounds. I don’t mind at all. I’m glad you told me; it’s an easy fix.”

Lena takes a deep breath and allows Kara’s words to wash over her.

“Look at us,” Kara smiles, a joking tone to her voice. “We’re communicating. Alex would be so proud.”

Lena lets out an exasperated chuckle. “What a novel concept.”

“Yeah, it’s like it works or something …” Kara grins, clearly proud of them both.

“You’re adorable,” Lena informs her. “But I should get back to this.”

“You got it, sweetheart,” Kara winks, kissing her temple.

Lena makes a face and Kara laughs when she sees it. “Okay, okay, I’ll keep trying. This nickname thing is tough!”

Lena just shakes her head, dimples pressed into her cheeks, as Kara strolls back over to the couch and plops back down. The TV starts up again, this time completely silent.

The relief is immediate.

Lena gets a good hour and a half of work done, until Kara runs out of film to watch, and decides to seek out a new focus for her attention — i.e., Lena.

“Hi,” Kara says, digging two delightfully firm thumbs into Lena’s neck.

“Mmm,” Lena moans, and Kara’s thumbs automatically dig deeper in some Pavlovian response.

“You have a typo,” Kara whispers, looking over Lena’s shoulder at her laptop screen.

“Where?” Lena asks, paying no mind to the fact her eyes are now fully closed.

One thumb disappears from her neck, and the disturbance is enough for Lena to return to consciousness.

“Here,” Kara points at the screen. Sure enough, she’s right.

“Thanks,” Lena says, swiftly making the correction.

“No problem,” Kara mumbles into her neck, now starting to kiss at Lena’s tender skin.

“Kara,” Lena states.

“Mm-hm?” Kara starts to suck a bit harder.

“Darling,” Lena repeats, this time with more of a warning edge to her voice. Kara picks up on it and halts her advance.

“I’ll stop,” Kara promises, standing up but setting her arms over Lena’s neck. “Can you blame me though? You’re just sitting there, looking like _that_ …”

“You know, it’s a good thing you’re leaving tomorrow,” Lena informs her. “Because you’re havoc on my productivity.”

Kara gives her a proud kiss on the cheek and her smile is infectious.

“How much longer do you need?” Kara asks. Her question is followed up with a yawn.

“Not long,” Lena says, one hand coming up to wrap around Kara’s forearm. “Why don’t you go wash up and get in bed? I’ll be in as soon as I can.”

“Sounds good,” Kara kisses the top of her head, and it sends a warm shiver dripping down Lena’s spine. “But take your time, I can keep myself entertained.”

“Keeping yourself _entertained_ in my bed, Danvers?” Lena can’t help but tease. “And what does that entail?”

“Any other night and I’d invite you to come find out,” Kara almost groans in self-conflict. “But I’m actually really sleepy. All this basketball and traveling is destroying my body, and not in the hot way.”

“That’s quite alright,” Lena assures with a mirthful tone. “We have a fairly robust sex life. I’m sure I can survive until Sunday.”

Kara presses another kiss — a clear expression of gratitude — into the crook of Lena’s neck and she melts under it.

“Go,” Lena pats Kara’s hand. “Go get some rest. I’ll be in soon.”

“As you command, your highness,” Kara says with exaggerated pomp.

“You’re being beyond ridiculous.”

“But baby …”

“Keep trying, Danvers.”

Kara just laughs and walks away.

Lena tunes out the sounds of Kara washing up so she can finish up the last section of her lab report, perhaps going a bit faster and a bit more carelessly than she would if she didn’t have a beautiful woman waiting in her bed. But it gets done not a moment too soon, and Lena goes to wash up herself, emerging from her bathroom in nothing but a silver silk robe by the time she’s done.

Kara’s eyes trail her every motion as she saunters over to the bed, dropping the robe at the last moment before sliding under the sheets. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Kara tells her, whispering it like an orison.

Lena can feel the heat spread across her cheeks, and it’s only amplified as Kara pulls her close. Their bodies intertwine with a warm familiarity that heals a little bit of Lena’s tender, wounded heart.

Kara nuzzles her face into Lena’s chest with a level of contentment unparalleled, and Lena can’t help it as a chuckle escapes.

“You’re easy to please,” Lena muses. “Or perhaps just _easy_.”

Kara’s head pops up with a look of faux-defiance. “If I wasn’t easy, we never would’ve hooked up, Luthor.”

“Hmm,” Lena murmurs. “I suppose I should count myself lucky then.”

“I do,” Kara says, too genuine for Lena to misconstrue as banter.

“I do too.”

A moment of silence passes between them, and Lena can’t help but suspect Kara’s trying to figure out if she wants to give into the pull of exhaustion, or fight it for a little longer to extend their last night together for the week.

It turns out Kara has the strength to resist sleep for a little longer.

“Lena?” Kara asks, voice filling the silent darkened bedroom. “Can I ask you a question?”

Lena rolls around in Kara’s arms to face the blonde. “What?”

“Why are you here?” Kara asks. Before Lena can make some retort about how _it’s my apartment, Danvers,_ Kara quickly adds, “At NCU. I mean, you’re actually a genius. Couldn’t you have graduated early?”

Ah. Yet another interesting thread in the String Theory web of how ‘Kara and Lena almost never happened’.

“I could’ve, yes,” Lena admits. “I mean, that certainly would’ve been my family’s preference.”

“Why didn’t you?” Kara asks earnestly. It’s not judgment in any direction, just simply curious.

“I thought about it,” Lena says. “At times, I felt obligated to. Sam was the one who eventually convinced me not to, and Jack. They assured me that my reasons for not wanting to were good enough.”

“What were the reasons?”

“Autonomy,” Lena says. “Freedom. Normalcy. Things are different for me here than they were ever in Metropolis, or at boarding school. No one cares nearly as much about my last name. I’ve actually made friends here and built a little life for myself. I’m in no rush to give that all up to become some miserable workaholic, trying to shirk my family’s reputation while still hopelessly ensnared in their kingdom.”

“Well, I’m glad they convinced you,” Kara says. “Because those are some pretty important reasons to stay. If you hadn’t, when would you have graduated?”

“I probably would have finished in two years,” Lena says. “And been about a third of the way through a PhD program by now.”

“We never would’ve happened then,” Kara realizes softly. “We would still hate each other. That’s _weird_ to think.”

“It is,” Lena chuckles softly. “But we also never would’ve happened if you had declared for the draft your freshman year.”

Kara’s forehead crinkles. “Wait, how did you know that I wanted to one-and-done?”

“Clark,” Lena explains. “He’s incredibly proud of you, you know. You should see how he lights up when he talks about you.”

A bashful look takes over Kara’s face. “I … that’s just Kal’s default. He’s the best person I know. If I turn out half as good as him, I’ll be happy.”

“Well,” Lena wiggles down a little to meet Kara’s eyes in full. “I’ve only met the man a few times, but I highly suspect he would consider you twice as good as him.”

Kara laughs a little, but it doesn’t hide her blush. “You know, it still kind of trips me up that you two know each other. Like outside of me.”

Something about Kara’s words ignites a spark of recognition in Lena, followed by a bone-chilling fear. “Wait, does Clark know about us?” Lena asks.

“No,” Kara’s smile drops into a frown. She’s clearly picked up on Lena’s distress. “Not yet, anyways, but I’ll tell him tomorrow if you—”

“—No, that’s okay,” Lena says a little too quickly, and Kara jerks back in confusion. Lena reaches for her and pulls her back closer to finish explaining. “You are more than welcome to tell Clark whenever and however you like. I just … might need to apologize to him and Lois before you do.”

“Apologize?” Kara squints.

Lena takes a humbling inhale.

“Over break, when Lex and I met Clark and Lois for dinner, your team was playing in the conference finals,” Lena explains. “And Clark invited us back to watch the game at his house. I might’ve … declined, rather sharply.”

Kara sucks on her lips. “Because of what was going on between us?”

“… Yes,” Lena admits. “And Lex did not inform me we would even be dining with Clark and Lois in the first place, so I was … unprepared.”

“Does Lex usually surprise you like that?” Kara asks.

“Too often,” Lena answers. “He’s rather good at getting what he wants, and he manipulates the pieces to his advantage. He had so smugly had realized we were sleeping together, but he didn’t know we had stopped.”

“Oh,” Kara nods in understanding. “But don’t worry about Kal, I’ll explain everything to him when I tell him. Honestly, he’ll probably slap Lex around a little for setting you up like that.”

Lena smiles and shakes her head. “I doubt that’ll be of any help.”

“Eh, could still be fun to watch though,” Kara teases, a soft smile back on her face. “And for what it’s worth, I’m very glad I didn’t do the one-and-done.”

“And I’m very glad I didn’t graduate early,” Lena says.

A single thread of fate connects them; they don’t know how thick it is or how long it runs, but right now in this moment, all that matters is that it’s tied them together for tonight.

They’ve come such a long way from enemies, here now to lovers. Lena parts her lips, slowly working up the confidence to ask Kara _what_ exactly they are now, when a motion from her bed partner stops her. Kara presses their foreheads together, such a simple yet intimate gesture that Lena never appreciated until now. It’s a cradle of warmth and security and belonging.

Lena shoves her question aside, not wanting to do anything that might threaten to disrupt the peace.

“I hate that you have to leave tomorrow,” Lena admits instead.

“But I’m here tonight,” Kara offers, sealing it with a deep, loving kiss.

“But you’re here tonight,” Lena accepts, and that’s all she needs.

* * *

Friday’s victory comes as a relief, with NCU leading the entire time. Unfortunately, the men’s team doesn’t have as much success as the women’s, and they lose their game in an overtime upset, Kara informs Lena. Lena feels some auxiliary sadness for Mike and James due to Kara’s own empathetic state, but honestly, she can’t quite buy in with the same passion she feels for Kara’s team.

Saturday’s game is even closer, but just like magic, the Comets find a way to pull ahead in the final quarter and Lena can finally remember what it feels like to breathe again. Jack comes over and they drain an impressive amount of wine trying to disperse the nerves. Kara and the team aren’t due back until Sunday afternoon again, this time flying back from Keystone City.

Kara calls Lena afterwards, excited beyond measure, and they talk for hours recapping the Comets’ last win with a level of detail that leaves Lena elated but stunned, wondering just how and when exactly she got so _into_ basketball. But she doesn’t mind.

Kara’s excitement is absolutely revitalizing and Lena can barely wait to be able to feel it with her in person.

Which is, naturally, why the Comets' plane home gets delayed. Twice.

Antics ensue. Apparently, when a bunch of overly-excited, rambunctious college kids are left in an airport for far too long with far too much energy and limited outlets for it, they get creative. And Lena gets to bear witness to all of it, between social media and her and Kara’s intermittent text conversations.

Hour One brings a scavenger hunt for the cutest pet in the terminal. Nia apparently wins, with some doe-eyed puppy with a red bow around its neck, destined to meet its new adopted parents downstairs at the luggage carousels.

Kara sends Lena way too many pictures of the dog (not that she actually minds), who’s named Moose, apparently.

**_K:_ ** _he’s sooooo cute Lena_

**_K:_ ** _i want one_

_You can’t have one._

**_K:_ ** _why not?_

Lena can hear Kara’s pout, even states away.

_Because I know for a fact Alex is the only reason the plants in your apartment are even alive. If you can’t handle plants, you can’t handle a dog._

**_K:_ ** _i don’t have a good argument for why, but you’re wrong_

_I’m never wrong, Kara._

**_K:_ ** _wow, someone’s feeling bold … maybe bold enough to do a load of laundry without help?_

_Alright, if you’re going to be like that then I guess I won’t send the family plane to come rescue you._

**_K:_ ** _no i didn’t mean it_

**_K:_ ** _wait, do you actually have a family plane?_

**_K:_ ** _you do, don’t you?_

**_K:_ ** _lena, if you love me, you’ll send your plane and get us out of this forsaken place_

**_K:_ ** _for fuck’s sake, lena, this whole state is just one big desert, it's depressing. rescue me!_

_I’m terribly sorry to hear that, darling._

**_K:_ ** _hmm no you’re not_

Hours Two and Three are spent completing a full culinary review of any and every airport shop that sells some sort of fried sugary dough.

**_K:_ ** _okay, i have officially ranked every pastry and donut shop in this entire airport. ready to hear the winner?_

_With bated breath._

**_K:_ ** _your sarcasm is noted but ignored_

The winner is some shop Lena’s never heard of, but the photos Kara sends to accompany her full analysis do look quite delicious. Unfortunately for the other occupants of the airport, the subsequent sugar rush induced afterwards means that Kara and Co. are in need of some way to burn it off, and the resulting solution is to dance and race along the flat automatic platforms. The videos that appear all over Alex’s social media are hilarious to watch, even though Lena would hate to be a fellow traveler amongst all that delightful chaos.

Hour Four is a glimmer of hope, as the replacement plane is finally good to go, and the Comets are in the air on their way home. Kara confirms it with a picture of her smiling so big it’s almost a little crazed, and one of her teammates somehow already asleep on her shoulder

**_K:_ ** _okay, we’re leaving for reals this time. fucking finally!_

_How is your friend already asleep?_

**_K:_ ** _oh nia can sleep anywhere. bus, plane, locker room. it’s impressive, really, that’s why we call her dreamer_

_Huh. What I wouldn’t give to sleep through my flights …_

**_K:_ ** _but then you wouldn’t get to watch star wars with me, which would be a huge bummer_

_Indeed._

_Let me know when you’re back and I’ll pick you up from the locker room. If you want, that is?_

**_K:_ ** _i’d love that. ETA like 7:00. see you soon, babe_

‘Babe’. It’s coarse, smug, and unsophisticated, sounding more All-American than apple pie. And even though Lena should have so many objections to being called something as gauche as ‘babe’ … it oddly kind of fits.

It’s straightforward, confident, and welcoming. It’s … warm. Like Kara.

So Lena decides she actually doesn’t hate that nickname. She could deal with that one.

Lena is true to her word, and ends up driving to NCU at seven that night to pick Kara up from the locker room. Unfortunately for the hot food Lena picked up on the way over, the Comets take a bit longer than expected to finish up, so she ends up just idling in the parking lot, waiting. She doesn’t mind though — it’s all beyond Kara’s control and she’s honestly still just so excited (so that’s what that feeling is, huh) to see her.

She turns the heat in the car up as high as it’ll go to try and keep Kara’s food warm, even if it means she’ll be a bit hot and sweaty in the meantime. (Really though, isn’t that just the prelude to when she has Kara in person again?). The wait, while again not ideal, is manageable.

But when Lena’s car dashboard lights up with a call from one Lex Luthor, Lena’s suddenly very grateful for the delay.

“Lex.”

“Lena!” Her brother’s voice emanates through her car speakers. 

His voice is more gravelly than usual, and he sounds just generally unwell. It’s a tone of his with which Lena is well-acquainted, and it has multiple severities — he sounds about at his post-Mercy level. He hasn’t been that low in awhile.

“I think I’ve finally achieved a permanent hangover,” Lex says.

“Having fun?” Lena greets. With him, it’s almost a guarantee.

“Yes, my now-empty stash of scotch and I had a wonderful time partying with these data audits all weekend,” Lex says, his unimpressed voice laden with sarcasm. “If I wanted to spend my weekends getting fucked by paperwork, I would’ve drilled a glory hole into my file cabinet.”

There’s a faint, tell-tale chirp of an email arriving to Lex’s inbox.

“Wait, are you still at the office?” Lena frowns. She glances down at the car’s clock, calculating the time zone difference. “Lex, it’s eleven at night on a Sunday.”

“Haven’t left in days,” Lex groans. “Thank god hookers make house calls.”

“Sex workers, Lex,” Lena corrects. “And I am going to assume that’s a joke and you are not going to inform me otherwise.”

Lex wisely chooses a new topic. “You know, I’ve always considered matricide an interesting notion, but now after spending every minute of the past two weeks — and the foreseeable future — cleaning up Mother’s mess, I think I should’ve picked it up as a hobby.”

“That would be a terribly brief hobby,” Lena deadpans. “How bad it is, truly?”

“Eh, it’s a great excuse to drink on the company dime,” Lex dismisses. 

“As if you didn’t do that already?”

“Well yes, but now I don’t have to feel bad about it,” Lex says.

“You can feel remorse?” Lena teases.

“Up to five times a year,” Lex retorts. “I have a punch card. Once I run out, I have to do something terrible to make up for it. Hike up our drug prices, corporate espionage, what have you.”

“Do you _really_ want to joke about that right now?” Lena asks incredulously. “What if someone actually hears you and thinks you’re serious?”

“Please, Lena, I haven’t slept for three days straight,” Lex scoffs. “It’s a wonder I’m not hallucinating. I don’t even think I’m medically allowed to be signing legal documents right now.”

Lena winces. “Lex, go home. You need to take care of yourself,” she says. “You can’t save Luthor Corp from a hospital bed.”

“I do relish a challenge, Lena.”

Lena sighs, wise enough to not engage with him further. “What did you call me for, Lex?”

“Hmm, to whine to you like a baby?” Lex jokes, but his next words sound genuine and a bit confused. “Why _did_ I call you …? Was it …? Oh! Yes, I remember. Mother wants to speak to us.”

Hell, no.

“About what?” Lena sets her jaw.

“Oh, coordinating the annual family holiday photo,” Lex jokes. “Probably her arrest, Lena.”

“Yes, _Lex_ , that I was able to deduce,” Lena deadpans. “You’re not the only genius in this family, and it wouldn’t take one anyway. I meant _specifics_.”

“Ah, she didn’t say,” Lex says. “Well, the lawyers didn’t. You know, when I imagined being thirty, talking to the raging bitch in my life through lawyers, I always assumed it would’ve been an ex-wife.”

“Are you going to go?” Lena asks.

“Eventually,” Lex yawns. “When I get bored enough. You know I love to gloat.”

That he does. 

“Well,” Lena says. “Give her my regards. Preferably the middle finger, to be concise.”

Lex chuckles. “I’ll tell her you’re still mulling it over.”

“I have nothing to say to her,” Lena states.

“Fine, fine,” Lex agrees. “I’ll leave her in suspense.”

Good enough.

“If you must.”

That’s one issue resolved, but actually while Lena has her brother on the phone, there’s another discussion she’s been meaning to have. NCU is moving onto the final weekend of the national tournament, hosted down in Gateway City, so it’s all a bit miraculously obtainable to attend now, and Lena feels as if she can’t pass the opportunity up.

There’s just one unfortunate piece missing.

“Lex, while I have you …” Lena trails off, searching for the fortitude to continue. “I need to ask a favor.”

“Yes, princess?” comes Lex’s smug reply.

“… Do you still have standing tickets to the college basketball championships?”

Her brother might be three-thousand miles away, but she can feel his enormous swell of satisfaction as if he was right there in the passenger’s seat next to her.

“Perhaps …” Lex drawls, oozing contentment. “And who, pray tell, would said tickets be used by? And for the men’s games, yes? I know you’re _such_ a fan.”

Lena sighs. “You’re insufferable. Do I really need to say it?”

“Nothing in this world is free, Lena,” Lex says. “Especially not my altruism.”

“Fine,” Lena concedes. “I was hoping to attend the women’s finals next weekend.”

“And why is that?” Lex goads.

“Because Jack likes basketball,” Lena states.

“Try again.”

“This is why I call you a terrible brother, you know,” Lena says.

“Lena, flattery will get you nowhere,” Lex chides. A moment of silence passes, a passing battle of stubborn siblings. “I’m waiting …”

Lena rolls her eyes, executing a cost-benefit analysis in her head. Telling Lex the truth (which he so smugly seems to know already) will be a blow to her ego and her patience, and unfortunately, any and all tickets for the finals are long sold-out. But Kara is worth it.

“Kara and I are … back together,” Lena admits.

“It’s not like a Luthor to forgive,” Lex says, but Lena knows it for the question it is.

“Our initial fallout was … a miscommunication,” Lena says. “We’ve since corrected it.”

Lex is silent for a minute. Even though he can’t see her, Lena lifts her chin to brace for his response. There’s an equally decent chance that he starts to brag insufferably about being right again, or goad her into a state of annoyance with some vulgar comments, or even start rattling off information from whatever background check he’s inevitably run on Kara …

But none of that happens.

“Does she make you happy, Lena?”

The question gives her considerable pause — both due the content and the speaker.

“Did you just ask me how I _felt?”_ Lena asks, an incredulous tone to her words. “About my relationship?”

“Yes,” Lex says. “I told you, I’m trying to care about other people now. So tell me before I change my mind.”

Lena rolls her eyes but answers anyway. “… She does.”

“The tickets are all yours then,” Lex says. “Two?”

“Three, if you have them.” 

(Even though Andrea’s never even seen a basketball game before, Lena knows without a doubt that she will certainly want to be there, once she finds out the reason why Lena’s going.)

“I always keep four, since Finch hardly fits into a single chair anymore on whatever new steroid-laden diet he’s started. I’ll have Jess handle everything,” Lex confirms. “Enjoy the game, Lena. I’ve always thought you two would be good together.”

“Matchmaker is never a look I expected from you, Lex,” Lena muses.

“I’m a genius, Lena,” Lex sighs dramatically. “What can’t I do? Honestly, I just can’t believe a pretty face is all it took to get you into basketball. Years of attempts, wasted.”

“If you were truly the genius you think you are, perhaps you would’ve figured that out sooner,” Lena teases.

“That’s not very polite,” Lex mimics her teasing tone. “Does Kara know you have this mean streak? Oh, is she into _that?_ That’s kinky.”

“Shove it up your ass, Lex,” Lena says. “And thank you.”

“You’re welcome, princess,” Lex says, quite amused. “I live to serve.”

It’s followed by a telltale sniffing sound that Lena’s heard far too many times in her life to mistake.

“Please tell me you didn’t just do what I think you did,” Lena deadpans.

There’s a split-second of silence as Lex … collects himself. 

“I’m microdosing,” he offers.

Lena frowns, a visceral feeling that her brother has delved fully into every bad habit in his book.

“Somehow I suspect the dose you just took would hardly be classified as ‘micro’,” Lena states. “How high are you right now?”

“One more line and I’m superhuman,” Lex sniffles. “Which I fucking need to be if I’m ever going to make it through all this paperwork.”

The confirmation instills a fair bit of dread into Lena’s bones, but there’s nothing she can do about it. Lex is a big boy, resolute in his unwillingness to accept help from others, and Lena knows from previous experience if she tries to push the issue it’ll only drive a wedge further between them. And honestly, she doesn’t think either of them can afford that right now. 

“I can hear your judgmental silence through the phone, Lena,” Lex warns.

“Would you prefer my vocal judgment?” Lena retorts.

“Not particularly,” Lex replies. “And while I have enjoyed our talk, I still have quite a bit of work to get through tonight … goodbye, Lena.”

“Bye, Lex. Take—”

The line goes dead, and Lena lets out an exasperated sigh. “—care of yourself.”

Her exasperation doesn’t last long though, because there’s the rapid tapping of a finger on her passenger side window, then Kara’s brilliant grin appears. Lena’s fingers can’t find the button to open the door fast enough. All her family troubles are shoved out of the car by the sudden presence of human sunlight. 

It’s a distraction and a more than welcome one.

“Hi!” Kara practically squeals, hopping into the seat with reckless abandon. Before Lena can really react, Kara’s leaning over and pulling Lena in for a sloppy, overly-excited kiss. Kara’s enthusiasm is infectious, and Lena’s heart is pumping like crazy by the time they break apart.

“Hi,” Lena finally replies once they break apart, very much out of breath. But Kara tends to have that effect on her anyways, doesn’t she?

“Sorry,” Kara smiles sheepishly. “I’m just really, really excited.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Lena says. “I’m very excited too.” She pulls the blonde in for a briefer, more precise kiss.

“We’re going to the final four, Lena!” Kara clenches her fists and shakes them in excitement. “Oh, man … I can’t believe it! I mean, I know it’s our third consecutive one, but still, it’s unbelievable!”

“Congratulations,” Lena gives her a smile beyond genuine excitement. “Truly, Kara, you deserve this more than anyone I know.”

“Ah, it’s all the team,” Kara blushes. “I just do what I can.”

Kara’s stomach rumbles loudly, and it jogs Lena’s memory.

“Oh,” Lena says, reaching behind the drivers seat for the paper bag she placed there. To her relief, the food inside still feels somewhat warm.

“I thought you might be hungry after your flight,” Lena says, handing Kara the bag. “So I got you a burger, well, two. It might be a little cold but—”

Lena’s cut off by the feeling of Kara’s lips on hers, intense and rough.

“Thank you for dinner and I am going to absolutely _demolish_ it,” Kara growls in her ear. “But first, there’s something else I need in my mouth.”

Lena doesn’t need to guess what Kara’s referring to — the hungry look in her eyes is explicit.

“Here?” Lena asks, eyebrows flying up her forehead. “In the parking lot.”

“Here, in the parking lot. You have tinted windows,” Kara states with a smug grin. “You brought me dinner and you expect me not to try and jump your bones? But only if you want me to.”

Without further delay, and lacking a bit more grace than was perhaps anticipated, Kara hops into the backseat of Lena’s car.

“Wow, it’s tight back here,” Kara remarks in a jarringly innocent change of tone, somewhat distracted by her new surroundings. “I’ve never been back here before.”

Lena watches her with amusement for a second. There’s a furious, desperate heat across Kara’s cheeks, but her eyes have been overtaken by her trademark curiosity. It’s a crux for Lena — she can decide which side of Kara she wants to feed into.

She could use a good distraction. Plus, the elation over the Comets’ win is still fresh in Lena’s mind, especially Kara Danvers’ thick biceps flexing over and over with every basketball shot, and there’s suddenly no doubt in her mind what her next move will be.

“If you think this is tight, Danvers,” Lena grins coyly, straddling Kara’s lap. “You have no idea what you’re in for.”

Oh, that does the trick.

Even in the low lighting of the car, Lena can see Kara’s pupils are blown wide.

It’s full of awkward angles and bony collisions, far from as graceful or smooth as they would be in a bed, but Lena doesn’t fucking care. It’s a cold glass of water in the middle of a hot summer night, filling her in just the right way.

“I’ve actually never had sex in a car,” Kara remarks, clearly struggling a bit with the limitations of the space.

“Aw, am I your first, Danvers?” Lena teases, grinding down into Kara’s lap. Her red lipstick is smudged everywhere across Kara’s face, marking her territory.

“You don’t get to look that hot and say those things at the same time,” Kara pants. “You’re gonna kill me.”

She starts to pump her hips up to aid the hand Lena’s currently wrapped around, which can hardly move at its current angle, and Lena’s breath is driven right out of her body. 

“You’ll die happy,” Lena assures.

(Of that, Kara’s absolutely certain she would.)

It turns into a desperate competition to get the other to come first. Kara’s got her palm grinding up into Lena’s clit, and victory begins to slip out of Lena’s reach, until she yanks up her shirt and bra and all but shoves Kara’s face to her chest with the hand that's not already down Kara’s pants.

But ever the competitor, Kara won’t lose that easily. She speeds up her fingers, right over the spot Lena loves, tugging one of Lena’s nipples between her teeth. 

But Lena refuses to lose either. So she digs her nails into the nape of Kara’s neck just like she likes, and lets slip the filthiest moan she can muster.

Her victory comes _hard_ , but so does she, leaving it as a draw.

After they’ve both caught their breath and retracted their limbs to more comfortable positions, Lena fixes Kara with a heart-stopping smirk.

“Welcome home,” Lena winks, pulling her shirt back down. She inspects her fingers with a smug look; it’s a good thing she keeps wet wipes in her car.

“I should leave town more often,” Kara jokes, chest still slightly heaving. “If this is what happens when I come back.”

“Well, a good scientist would gather multiple data points before making any conclusions,” Lena advises, fumbling back into the driver's seat with noticeably less poise than usual.

There really isn’t anything graceful about car sex, is there? But Lena doesn’t mind.

“Here,” Lena warns, tossing a wet wipe back to Kara before grabbing one for herself.

“Thanks,” Kara says. Lena watches carefully as the blonde picks up the wipe and cleans her hand off (thoroughly, good — Lena will not be having any stains in her car, self-made or otherwise) then hops back up into the passenger’s seat.

“Can I eat the burgers in your car?” Kara asks, the beginnings of her puppy-dog pout settling over her face.

It’s the post-orgasmic bliss that weakens Lena’s resolve. It must be.

“Fine. _Be careful_.”

Two seconds and a big bite of burger later, Kara’s hands are dirty once more.

“Thank you for the burgers too, by the way,” Kara laughs into her dinner. “They’re cold but it’s still tasty.”

“Well, it’s your fault that it’s cold,” Lena points out.

“And I’m perfectly okay with that,” Kara grins. “You certainly didn’t seem to have any complaints about the delay.”

“Your excitement is … infectious,” Lena muses. “And dangerous unchecked. It requires a swift and immediate reaction.”

“Yeah, I guess you did come pretty quickly, didn’t you?” Kara teases.

Lena lets out a dramatic sigh. “If you don’t shut up and eat your burgers, I’ll eat them instead.”

“Wait, Lena, _no_ ,” Kara whines, taking a big bite out of the one in her hand for good measure. She gives Lena her trademarked puppy-dog eyes, a stalwart defense of her food, as she chews.

“Relax, Danvers, I’m not going to take your food,” Lena chuckles, shaking her head. “I already ate.”

Kara lets out a scandalous gasp. “And you didn’t wait for me?”

“No, I didn’t,” Lena says without shame. “Because I know if I had, I would’ve been liable to lose a bite or two of my own burger to those eyes you’re making at me right now.”

“Fair,” Kara says. The pout turns into a content smile as she polishes off the rest of the first burger, then the next.

“The wet wipes are in the dash,” Lena tells her. “Do _not_ get greasy fingerprints all over my car.”

“I won’t, I won’t,” Kara placates.

Once Lena’s satisfied with the cleanliness of Kara’s hands again, she shifts the car into ‘drive’. She looks over at Kara and asks, “My place?”

“Your place. I already have an overnight bag packed,” Kara jokes, motioning to her bags from the weekend.

Lena just rolls her eyes and relaxes her shoulders, ready to be in the comfort of her apartment, basking in Kara’s snug embrace. She gets them out of the lot and onto the road without delay.

Kara shifts a little in her seat, staring out the window with a look of concentration on her face.

“Are you alright?” Lena asks, shooting a quick glance at her passenger before turning back to the road.

“Yeah,” Kara says softly, turning to look at Lena. “Actually, a little nervous.”

“About the games next weekend?”

“Well, that’s a different story,” Kara gives a jittery chuckle. “But no, I … so every player gets four tickets for their families to come watch the semi-finals. And then the finals too, if they make it. And well I-I was wondering if … I know you’d have to skip class, and the games are in Gateway City, but you could drive, you wouldn’t have to fly, and …”

Lena stays quiet as Kara takes a moment to collect herself with a deep breath.

“I was wondering if you’d come watch us play next weekend?” Kara says, strong and confident this time. “Alex and I just have Eliza, so we always have plenty of tickets left over. The boys are going to use up some of the extras, but I’ll still have three remaining. I was thinking, I’d like to give them to you so maybe you, Jack, and Andrea could come down and watch.”

Lena waits a second to ensure Kara’s done her spiel before replying. Apparently, it’s a second too long, and Kara gulps nervously.

Pink spreads across Lena’s cheeks, and her lips are twisting upwards into an amused smile. “Nice save, Danvers. I was certain that was about to be a full-blown ramble.”

“It almost was,” Kara chuckles. Her eyes still look anxious though, and Lena can’t have that.

“To answer your primary question, yes, I will be there next weekend,” Lena assures. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Really?” Kara gives her what is probably the most blinding smile Lena’s seen yet.

“Of course,” Lena nods. “While you were gone, I was _actually_ able to be productive, so I’ve gotten a jump on a lot of my upcoming work. Skipping class won’t be an issue—”

Kara gives her an over-dramatic gasp. “ _Lena Luthor_ skipping class? Is the sky falling?”

“It’s not the first time, Danvers,” Lena says darkly, a small amount of residual irritation over the last time she skipped class. “And the drive to Gateway isn’t bad.”

“Yeah, it’s under six hours, when you drive like Mike does,” Kara remarks.

Lena chooses to ignore that concept — not wanting to consider just how fast Mike might be driving around with _Kara_ in his car — and presses forward.

“Besides, Jack loves road trips,” Lena says. “And basketball, so truly, he’ll be elated.”

“Great!” Kara cheers. “The semis are Friday night; we won’t know what time and the opponent until the lottery tomorrow. And the finals will, potentially, be on Sunday.”

“Lottery?”

“The two games that comprise the final four are decided by lottery, to make sure one super strong division doesn’t just steamroll another every year,” Kara explains. ”And of course, we won’t know about the finals until after the semis are over. Makes it kinda tricky to plan for, but I know Eliza got her hotel through Monday, just to be sure …”

Oh, Eliza — right. The tangent of this that Lena is truly and well unprepared for. If she were to accept Kara’s tickets, that would surely mean spending a few solid hours sitting right next to Kara’s mother, who, come to realize it, probably doesn’t even know who Lena is. Though, how could she not, with Lena’s family name plastered all over the news for the past two weeks?

Yeah, she’s not ready to meet Eliza yet. (Besides, it’s not like she has a great track-record with mothers to begin with.)

Lena misses a good chunk of the rest of what Kara’s saying, too busy perseverating over the notion that she might be about to share air with Kara’s mother.

“… so I can just put your guys’ names down for the tickets,” Kara finishes.

“Oh, Kara, wait,” Lena refocuses back in on their conversation. “I actually don’t need your tickets.”

“You don’t?” Kara’s brow crinkles. “Lena, I know you’re rich and all, but all the other tickets will be sold out by now, and—”

“—Lex has some,” Lena explains. “Well, he always does. He keeps a standing supply every year, for every Meteors game and the collegiate finals, in case he wants to go.”

“Wait,” Kara frowns. “Seriously? That’s gotta be so expensive.”

“He’s …” Lena waves a hand. “Lex.”

“Does he actually use them?” Kara asks, a bit scandalized at the idea of wastefulness.

“Usually,” Lena answers. “Unless he’s away on Luthor Corp business, then he gives them away. He would be using them next weekend, but with everything after my mother …”

“Yeah, I’d imagine he’s a little busy,” Kara meets her halfway. “How are you doing with that, by the way?”

The weight Lena had just so freely tossed out of the car comes rushing back in like a bull.

“I …” Lena trails off, unsure of what she even wants to say. “I called Lex tonight. Well, he called me.”

“How was it?” Kara asks, voice tender and undeniable.

“He has three courtside tickets for Jack, Andrea, and I to use,” Lena says. “So it was a successful call.”

Kara wiggles a little in her seat. “Good, I’m glad. I like it when you’re courtside.”

“As do I,” Lena nods. “What will you do with your tickets then?”

“I’ll just give them to M’gann,” Kara shrugs. “She’s got a huge extended family.”

“Not Clark and Lois?”

“Nah, Kal has a game,” Kara says. “And Diana lives in Gateway, but she’ll be away for a few days playing away games, since the finals are hosted in their arena.”

“Ah,” Lena nods. “Must be challenging, having everyone you know always traveling.”

Lena’s family members have been traveling around constantly for as long as she can remember, and she imagines that if they actually got along like Kara and her people do, she might’ve actually resented it.

“Eh, the good outweighs the bad,” Kara shrugs. “Plus, it’ll be my life too soon, hopefully. Everyone finds a way to make it work.”

“I’m sure you will,” Lena says. “If you’re ever in the market for a private plane, I can make some great recommendations.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Kara laughs. “I have always wanted to wear the pilot hat.”

“Mmm, cute.”

Things taper off on a light note, but it still feels a bit tense in the car, and it’s obvious why. Lena is curious to see if Kara will actually leave her earlier family matter alone, especially now that Lena’s redirected the conversation off-course.

But Kara is too good at breaking down her walls to stop now.

“You said Lex called you,” Kara notes. “Which means you guys talked about something other than the tickets first. Do you want to talk about it?”

“You know, you’d make a decent reporter,” Lena deflects. “Observant, with no reservations about asking tough, unwelcome questions.”

“Thank you … I think,” Kara says patiently. “So is that a yes or a no?”

“It’s … an ‘I don’t know’,” Lena sighs. “Lex called me — coked out and sleep-deprived, mind you — to inform me that Lillian wants to talk to us.”

“That’s … a lot,” Kara exhales. “Do you wanna start with Lex or your mom?”

“Well, Lex is simple,” Lena gives a rueful chuckle. “He does what he wants, exclusively. I’ve already fought and lost that battle, and it took a significant amount of time for the battlefield to be cleared afterwards, so I’m in no rush to do it again.”

There’s a flicker of pensive silence.

“… What about Sam?” Kara asks. “You told me that you think she’s been a good influence on him since they started working together. What if you reach out to her and ask her to talk to him?”

Lena blinks at the road ahead a few times. She’s missed their turn somehow — they’ll have to loop around the block.

“You’re suggesting I ask my ex to talk to my brother about his drug usage following my mother’s arrest?” Lena recaps, “So that he doesn’t destroy himself or our family business … god, what has my life become?” 

“Yeah,” Kara says softly, voice now a bit unsure. “It’s just an idea, you don’t—”

“—No, it’s actually a good idea,” Lena quickly assures. “Sam did get him to go see a therapist. I won’t pretend to understand it, but she and Lex have always seemed to _get_ each other, in some strange way—”

“—they vibe,” Kara supplies with a shrug.

“… they vibe,” Lena accepts. The words feel a bit ridiculous leaving her mouth, but they’re somehow an oddly apt descriptor. “So maybe Sam will be able to reach him.”

“It’s worth a shot,” Kara agrees.

Their conversation pauses briefly while Lena parks her car in it’s designated spot of the garage, but neither of them exit the vehicle, willing (Kara) and obligated (Lena) to continue.

Lena’s brow furrows. “And you’re alright with that? Even though Sam’s my ex?”

“Yeah, of course,” Kara says. “I’m not really the jealous type.”

Lena challenges that bold claim with an incredibly sharp brow arch.

“Okay, I mean I _do_ get jealous,” Kara quickly corrects.

“Yes, I was there at Acrata when you almost punched both Sara _and_ Grayson,” Lena muses.

“I didn’t almost punch them,” Kara protests. “I’ll admit … I was being insecure and stupid that night. I just thought you didn’t want to be with me, and I got jealous, but now I know you do want to be with me, and I trust in that. I trust you.”

Lena nods in acceptance of Kara’s words. “That I do, want to be with you.”

“I’m glad. Lena, I’m not your keeper and I don’t want to be,” Kara says. “I know Sam was an important part of your life. I don’t want you to feel cut off from that; she’s part of you. We’re all just a bunch of parts from other people. Kinda like a stained-glass window.”

“More unsolicited advice from your friends?” Lena raises a brow.

“Nah, therapy,” Kara says with a laugh. The contentment gently falls from her face into a more serious expression. “Have you … thought about talking to someone any more? About everything with your mom?”

“Honestly, I’ve been avoiding thinking about my mother altogether,” Lena admits. “And I told Lex to give her my regards when he sees her.”

Lena demonstrates with a quick flex of her middle finger.

“So you’re not going to go see her?” Kara gives her an inquisitive look. It’s not judgmental or condemning, just an expression of neutral curiosity, but Lena finds a way to superimpose her own emotions onto it.

“I take it you have an opinion?” Lena raises her chin in a challenge.

“… I do,” Kara admits. “But only if you want to hear it.”

_I don’t_ , Lena almost bites. Really, it was only a hair’s breadth away from slipping from her tongue. But it’s not Kara who her malice is truly directed at, and so she halts her finger from pulling the trigger at the last second.

“Another time,” Lena sighs instead. “I want to hear it; I do value your perspective. But I’m honestly about the furthest thing from prepared for this and …”

“And that’s okay,” Kara assures, peeling Lena’s hand off the shift knob to replace it with their intertwined fingers. “You can have time with this. Whatever you need.”

“Thank you,” Lena croaks. She can feel the threat of a tear starting to well in her eye.

“Come on,” Kara says, noticing the beginnings of the droplet. “Let’s get you upstairs. Okay?”

Lena nods, and allows herself to be sheltered in the strong, warm arms of Kara Danvers.

She’s never felt so safe before.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be the college championships, which has actually been in the works since the very first chapter of this story. Very excited to share it with you all …


	20. battle royale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The basketball national championship turns into a bit of a battle royale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My bad, my bad on the late update, didn't process Friday = Christmas, and life got in the way. Speaking of, a happy nondenominational holiday to everyone! To anyone else who wasn't able to travel home for their holiday season, I feel you and I hope you still found a way to enjoy the day(s). Now, for the fun stuff …
> 
> Admittedly, I'm a big Warriors fan, so Kara and Alex's playstyle is inspired by that (the Splash Sisters, if you will), as well as by Sue Bird (one of the GOATs).
> 
> And if you're looking for any additional reading over the holiday, highly recommend the works of my beta reader, IcarusAndHerSun.

* * *

_“_ _Are you nervous?”_

_“Yeah,” Kara confessed. Her admission felt like the sudden apparition of a ghost, unexpected and unwelcome._

_“What about it makes you nervous?”_

_“I don’t know,” Kara said. “I-I just … everyone has these great expectations of me. I don’t want to let anyone down.”_

_“And what would letting them down look like?”_

_“Losing,” Kara said simply._

_“Do you think that’s a fair measure of success?”_

_Kara didn’t answer._

_“Does the idea of losing scare you, Kara?”_

_“I’ve lost games before,” Kara gave a haughty chuckle. “I always come back stronger.”_

_“I didn’t specify it was about losing at basketball.”_

_“Losing is losing,” Kara stated. “Doesn’t matter if it’s a game or a person. It sucks either way, and I’m not losing anymore.”_

_“That’s a heavy burden to put on yourself, isn’t it?”_

_“Yeah, I know,” Kara said, her voice wavering. “It’s just … Alex, my friends … they all need me. I can do things that the others can’t.”_

_“And what about you, Kara? What do you need?”_

_Kara looked up with fire in her eyes, the same defiant look that she had once sent her mother over the dinner table, accompanied with the steely insistence that she would one day become a professional basketball player, just like Kal._

_“I have to win,” Kara stated. “I need this to mean something. I need to make them proud.”_

_“Your parents?”_

_Kara gave a grim nod. “I-I need them to know … that I can actually do it. That it wasn’t all for nothing.”_

_“And how much of yourself will you give trying to reach that?”_

_“Everything.”_

. . . . . . . .

The final-four lottery results are released Monday, with the women’s semi-finals scheduled for Friday and the finals on Sunday — both games in Gateway City.

> **Friday: Semi-Final Games**
> 
> _National City University (Southwest Div. Champ) vs. Hale College (Southeast Div. Champ)_
> 
> _Starling University (Northwest Div. Champ) vs. Gotham State University (Northeast Div. Champ)_

NCU will play first. It’s a pleasant advantage — if they win — as they’ll have the opportunity to watch the other semi-final game afterwards with clear, relieved heads, able to size up both of their prospective opponents.

> **Sunday: National Championship**
> 
> _TBD vs. TBD_

The men’s games are to take place Saturday and Monday respectively, but that’s hardly of importance to Kara without her friends in it, so she skips over the rest of the article.

Friday is wild. The game versus Hale is incredibly tough and close, just as Kara expected, but NCU pulls out the win with a valiant 71-63 finish in the final few minutes. The sensation of the pebbled ball under Kara’s palm, her pulse pounding in her ears, is still fresh when it hits her. It feels impossible yet fated — NCU is headed to the finals.

A few hours later, it’s official. The NCU Comets will play none other than Starling for the national championship title.

Ugh.

They might have lost to Gotham State in the regular season, but Kara would’ve preferred to play _them_ over Starling and Leslie Willis any day. 

But alas, fate is uncooperative at best. (And an absolute bitch at worst.)

Kara calls Lena the night before, hiding in some empty stairwell. They’re each in their own respective hotels, Kara and the team sharing rooms like usual, while Lena and her friends are posted up in their own luxury suites across town. They’re so close yet so far away.

“Did you ever get nervous before your big fencing matches?” Kara asks, sounding a little shaky as she speaks into the phone.

“Of course,” comes Lena’s soothing voice. “I’d always have to find something to do with my hands or else I’d tie my fingers into knots.”

Kara chuckles at the ridiculous mental image. “Yeah, that would be a problem.”

“… Are you nervous?” Lena asks slowly, as if a bit hesitant to put any ideas in Kara’s head.

It’s futile, though; they’re already there — like roots long since grown through stone.

“Of course not, I’m Supergirl,” Kara jokes. “I always come out on top.”

“Kara,” Lena calls her out. It’s firm yet gentle and Kara surrenders to her.

“Yeah,” Kara confesses. “I mean, how could I not be? It’s the _national championship_.”

“It’s completely understandable, darling,” Lena validates. “You’ve been here before, right?”

“Mm-hm,” Kara confirms. “I think I was probably ready to puke at any second when we played my freshman year. It’s a wonder I didn’t, honestly.”

“Well, according to the old article I’m reading,” Lena drawls. “It says it was your career best at the time.”

“It’s still top five,” Kara says, chest puffing out a little.

“Alright,” Lena says with some mirth. “Look, Kara. My fencing instructor always told me: trust in your training. I would repeat it like a mantra before every bout to calm myself. You’ve been in the finals before, you can do it again. What helped you the first time?”

Kara racks her brain, almost two years in the past to the day, trying to recall what her lifeline was.

“Honestly, it was a bunch of little things,” Kara realizes. “It was Alex by my side the whole time. It was the pep talk Diana gave to the team — it was beyond inspiring. It was the new-ness and the excitement of it all. It was …”

“It was what?” Lena gives a gentle encouragement.

“It-it felt like … hope,” Kara says slowly. “That I could actually go pro. That I could make my parents proud. That it wasn’t all … that I could do it.”

“Oh, Kara,” Lena exhales. Kara can hear the heartbreak in her voice. “I wish I was with you right now.”

“It’s okay,” Kara smiles, feeling warmer at just the suggestion of being wrapped up in Lena’s loving, patient arms. “It gives me something to look forward to tomorrow.”

“Is there anything I can do for you?” Lena asks.

“Nah,” Kara says, taking a deep breath. “I should probably try to get to bed soon. Thankfully, Nia’s a heavy sleeper, so I won’t wake her when I go back into the room.”

“You’ll actually be able to sleep tonight?” Kara can hear Lena’s eyebrow cock through the phone.

“Of course,” Kara snorts. “I love sleeping! And I sleep like a bear—”

“—bear in winter, I remember,” Lena says. ”Though it did precious little to prevent you from falling in love with me.”

“I have no regrets,” Kara laughs. “And to be fair, I’m pretty sure I fell in love with you while I was _awake_ , so …”

Lena gives an unimpressed hum, but it comes from a place of love. 

“I am actually gonna meditate for a bit to help,” Kara offers. “Since I can’t exactly sneak halfway across Gateway City to your hotel for my _other_ method.”

“Tempted?”

“More than you know,” Kara says. “But thankfully, having sex with you isn’t a once-in-a-lifetime thing anymore. But tomorrow is.”

“Fair enough, Danvers,” Lena chuckles. “Before you go, one last thing?”

“Yeah?”

“Regardless of what happens tomorrow …” Lena says slowly. “Your parents would be incredibly proud of you, Kara. Being Supergirl out on the court, it’s what you _do_ , but Kara Danvers is who you _are_. Everyone who loves you — Alex, Eliza, your friends — they love you as _Kara_. And I can say that with utter confidence because I … I know. I do too.”

“I love you as Kara Danvers,” Lena continues. “And the reasons why I do? None of them have to do with basketball. Tomorrow doesn’t change that. So while I have no doubt you’ll do everything in your power to win — and you will — remember that you get to set down the weight of the world after. You get to just be _Kara_.”

Kara is stunned silent. Feelings of understanding and security and belonging well in her eyes. Lena had found her faultlines with expert precision, and woven them back steady in only a few sentences. Words that Kara would forever carry with her after tonight.

“How do you do that?” Kara marvels.

“Do what?”

“Get me to fall in love with you a little bit more,” Kara laughs.

She can hear Lena’s pleased chuckle through the phone. “Because you’re a giant sap, Danvers.”

“And so are you,” Kara teases. “But seriously … thank you.”

“You’ve always believed in me,” Lena says. “I’m just returning the favor.”

“Still,” Kara says. “It … it means more than I can describe. I’m glad you’re going to be there tomorrow.”

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” Lena says, and Kara can just imagine the brilliant smile that follows it, enchanting green eyes shining in the night, dimples framing the most beautiful sight Kara knows.

“Good,” Kara says smugly. “Because you and your friends will actually have some of the best seats in the house for the splash zone.”

“Splash zone?”

“Oh, usually it's a nice three-pointer from far away,” Kara grins. “But it's also a good description for what'll be happening in your pants tomorrow.”

Lena's sigh is adorably heated. “You are _unbelievable_ …”

"Am I now?"

Kara falls asleep swiftly that night, replaying the sound of Lena’s begrudging laughter over and over in her head. 

* * *

The whole weekend has been a pleasant respite for Lena so far, more or less. 

They take Jack’s rover down to Gateway City — Lena’s car is far too expensive, and Andrea’s only has two seats — and the six-actually-about-seven hour drive isn’t too bad. Lena would take it over flying any day, regardless of how many bathroom breaks Andrea makes them take. Once they arrive at their unnecessarily fancy hotel, each in separate rooms, the festivities begin.

The Comets win their semi-final game Friday, and Lena is elated and relieved beyond belief. She and Kara lock eyes across the court, but they don’t otherwise interact — there are too many eyes watching. Though they don’t go long without talking; Lena sends Kara a text message before the blonde’s even back in the locker room to see it.

_Congratulations, darling._

**_Kara:_ ** _we’re going to the championship!!!_

 **_Kara:_ ** _and thank you!!! i loved having you there_

_I loved being there._

**_Kara:_ ** _any big plans tonight?_

_Jack and Andrea want to go clubbing._

**_Kara:_ ** _fun!! j’onn will have us all under an incredibly tight lockdown for the next two days, so i will just live vicariously through you_

 **_Kara:_ ** _also, if you need anything tonight, let me know. i won’t actually be able to do anything myself, but the boys are all here too and i can call in a favor, whatever you need_

Lena’s fingers freeze over her phone’s keyboard as she allows herself a moment to process Kara’s last text and the pleasant pressure in her heart.

Suddenly, Lena’s phone is yanked out of her hand by Jack, who begins to read their messages with delight.

“Wow, this is actually disgustingly sweet,” Jack teases. “I’m not sure who’s more whipped.”

Lena just shakes her head, hiding the beginnings of a blush with an inconspicuous fist over her cheek. 

“Don’t scroll too far back,” Lena warns.

(Kara swears to play better when a little sexually frustrated, and Lena had been more than happy to oblige her that, having no such limitations set for herself. All in the name of helping, of course.)

And those messages aren’t too far up from what Jack is reading now. Nosy as he might be, he respects Lena’s privacy enough to promptly hand back the phone after that warning.

Andrea does drag them out to some club after the semi-final game to celebrate, and they meet up with some of her friends that go to college nearby. All three of them — Lena, Jack, and Andrea — wake up hungover beyond belief Saturday morning. Jack, ever the glutton for punishment, insists they go out Saturday too, but Lena sneaks out early. She has no desire to be hungover for the finals tomorrow, and she would much rather spend her night in the solace of her room, calling with Kara. 

(She may not be straight, but her priorities are.)

And then it’s Sunday. The women’s collegiate national championship.

The arena is somehow even more massive this time. NCU’s sky blue is everywhere, as is Starling’s forest green. The background crowd all blurs together but there are a few distinct components. Photographers and videographers are packed into the limited available floor space on each end of the court. Each team has its own bench on one of the sidelines, dropped a few feet down below court level, and the other sideline boasts the premium few courtside seats. 

The event is a far cry from the cool, calm, collectedness of a fencing tournament. Lights flash everywhere, and the baseline level of noise is probably enough to leave Lena’s ears feeling a bit warbled for hours after. She can’t imagine how loud it’ll get once the games actually start. 

It’s a spectacle to say the least.

Jack and Andrea are there with Lena sitting courtside. They really do have some of the best seats in the house, and Lena makes a mental note to send Lex some sort of thank-you. Who knew his long-standing obsession with basketball would one day work out so well in her favor?

The three of them find themselves courtside early, watching both teams warm up in preparation for the game. Lena’s carefully cultivated her outfit — tight black pants, murder-worthy heels, and one of Kara’s black ‘Comets Basketball’ shirts with the name and number on the back, intentionally covered with a deep red jacket — wanting to support the team (Kara) while still well-aware that she’s liable to be photographed, despite Lex’s insistence that she ‘doesn’t have anything to do with basketball, so they won’t care’.

She looks hot, judging by the frequency by which Kara’s eyes conspicuously wander up along the row of courtside seats. Though it goes both ways; Lena’s spent perhaps a bit too much time watching a sweaty and flushed Kara Danvers squirt water into her mouth on the sideline.

It doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Could you look any thirstier, Lena?” Jack asks, far too amused. “I’m sure Kara would _happily_ share some of that water with you if you asked.”

Lena arches a harsh brow at him. She never should have let him order a bottle of wine at their mid-afternoon meal; he had drunk almost the entire thing too — except for the one glass Andrea had — leaving him in rare form for the rest of the night. 

“Did you not get this out of your system earlier?” Lena asks. “Andrea, help me out here.” 

“Oh, I won’t save you from him,” Andrea shakes her head. “I’m still pissed you told him about Kara before me.”

Jack’s just oozing smug contentment at this point.

“I had no intention to,” Lena defends. “He figured it out himself.”

Andrea ignores that element of it, more interested in making her good-humored frustration known.

“Whatever happened to ‘if you jump, I jump’, Lena?” Andrea scoffs. “Apparently it doesn’t extend to jumping onto Kara Danvers’ dick, does it now?”

Jack starts cackling. “Oh, I’m _loving_ this.”

“That’s quite enough out of both of you,” Lena bites, cheeks flushed.

Her words only seem to spur them on.

“I’ve always wondered about that,” Jack continues. “Does she strap? How kinky do you two get? I know she’s a fuckboy and all, but she always looks like an absolute puppy dog around you, it’s hard to picture.”

“Oh, it’s definitely a little kinky,” Andrea says. “Lena’s got too much family trauma for it not to be.”

Lena blinks in shock. There’s blunt and then there’s _that_.

“Oh my god, I will kill you both,” Lena seethes. She can feel the heat spread across her cheeks. “And that’s a bit hypocritical of you, don’t you think?”

“Takes one to know one,” Andrea winks.

“We both know you won’t,” Jack smirks. “Though, if you just can’t stand us anymore, I’m sure you could always switch seats and go sit next to Kara’s mother.”

Ignoring the element of logistical impossibility, Lena would rather die and Jack knows that.

“I have absolutely no intention of meeting Eliza Danvers today,” Lena states. “And certainly not when you’re _anywhere_ nearby to harass me, beforehand, during, or after.”

“It’s not harassment, love,” Jack says. “It’s payback, for having a secret relationship for the past several months and not letting us have any fun with it at all.”

“My toys are not your toys, Jack,” Lena says without thinking.

Jack’s entire body practically vibrates with excitement. “So you admit Kara’s one of your toys, then? How big is said toy?”

Fuck.

Lena really needs to stop talking. Or Jack really needs to stop talking. Or, better yet — both of them.

“Definitely big,” Andrea teases, a sly grin across her face. “She’s got size-queen written all over her.”

Alright, Lena needs all three of them to _shut the fuck up_ now. But for all her fury, not a single clever response comes to mind.

“ _Fuck you,”_ Lena hisses at Jack, then rolls her head around to face Andrea. “And you.”

“And you,” Andrea fires back.

Lena lets out a loud exhale, bringing one hand up to rub at her brow.

“I think you’re being a little over-dramatic right now, Lena,” Jack says. “We’re just making up for lost time.”

“And can you blame us?” Andrea asks. “It’s not every day Lena Luthor falls for a jock.”

The protest is automatic. “I didn’t—” It ends as quickly as it starts, as Lena makes the horrifying realization that she did, in fact, fall for a jock.

Hard.

Oh, if only September-Lena could see herself now.

A change of topic is certainly needed.

“Well,” Lena takes a deep breath to recollect herself in the face of her friendly torment. “Andrea, you now know about Kara and I. So, I believe there’s some information about Sara Lance that needs to be released?”

“Wait, what?” Jack looks between the two women, stupefied.

“Oh, no,” Andrea sweeps her hair off her shoulder. “I believe I get to wait seven, eight months to tell you. That’s the standard for friends now, right?”

Hmm, maybe Andrea’s a little bit more than faux-hurt that Lena didn’t tell her. Lena makes a mental note to give her a genuine apology next time they’re alone.

“Again,” Jack says, leaning over Lena to poke his head into their conversation. “What’s this about Sara Lance? Like _Captain Lance_ of the Star City Canaries, Sara Lance? Why are you two hanging out with professional basketball players? Without me?”

“It was over winter break,” Lena explains, to soothe his pain. “Andrea and I ran into Kara and her friend, Sara Lance, out at a club in Metropolis. Kara knows an impressive amount of them; you’d be surprised how frequently they surface in her life.”

“But _without me_ _?”_ Jack whines.

“Sorry, Jackie,” Andrea says.

“The two of them were eye-fucking the second they saw each other,” Lena continues. “Then I disappeared briefly—”

“—to devour Kara in some dark corner, I’m sure,” Jack quips. 

Lena ignores him. “—and when I returned to the bar, Andrea and Sara Lance were mysteriously both absent.”

“No!” Jack gasps at Andrea. “You and _Sara Lance?”_

The corner of Andrea’s mouth twists upwards, betraying herself to both Lena and Jack.

“I knew it,” Lena then lowers her eyes suggestively at her friend. “So how does it compare?”

“I need explicit details. Don’t make me suffer for Lena’s sins,” Jack’s practically in Lena’s lap in his excitement to get to Andrea. “Lena’s too stingy to ever spill her secrets, no matter how many I give her in exchange.”

“I don’t ask for that, Jack,” Lena states. “I feel absolutely no need to know about your sex life.”

“Yes, you do.” Jack waves her off and sets his chin on his fist, looking at Andrea intently. “So, gay awakening time …”

“It wasn’t a gay awakening,” Andrea concedes. “I’m not sure exactly what it was, and I’m okay with that. I’ll figure it out in time.”

“Oh my god,” Jack throws his head back in exasperation. “Just tell us, please, you two _did_ sleep together, right?”

“Well,” Andrea smirks. “Apparently, with a little weed and the right girl, I’m not quite as tragically straight as we all thought.”

Jack starts cheering long before the game begins.

* * *

Kara remembers the entire day, but it’s best captured in moments.

The first is walking into the arena, strolling down the concrete hallway to the locker room with her pregame music blaring in her headphones, head bobbing along to the beat. Pride pushes her spine tall and her shoulders wide and she walks with a confidence and an ease that can only be summarized as swagger. A locker is already set up for her — 11, Danvers — and her eyes linger over her number for a split-second of nostalgia.

Then it’s time to lock in.

She heats and stretches in the training room, a quiet respite to soak in the company of the more veteran Comet players. (The young ones haven’t sustained nearly as many injuries that require constant TLC yet). The team reunites in full back in the locker room, music cranked so loud Kara can feel the vibrations in her ribcage, dancing and singing as they all hype each other up as much as possible before J’onn walks in.

It’s the calm before the storm, though there’s nothing calm about it. But that’s just how Kara likes it. 

The next big memory is walking out from the tunnel onto the court. 

The stands are packed already. It’s a massive arena, but it won’t matter for long, because as soon as that game whistle blows, Kara will only be able to see as far as the distance of the court, the rest shrouded in the darkness of concentration. The roar of the crowd fills her ears. It would be beyond overwhelming, but the noise has all sort of merged into one constant thrum, and her heartbeat drowns it out.

The lights above her are brighter than the sun, but they lack the same energizing warmth. It doesn’t matter though; Kara is energized enough to burn forever.

The Comets cycle through their usual warm ups, which is muscle memory to Kara by now. Footwork, passing, layups, shooting. By the end, she’s sweaty and hot and ready to go, so all in all, it’s a successful warm up. She strips off her warmup shirt and drapes it over the back of a chair, simultaneously searching the faces of the crowd behind the Comets’ bench. It’s the section for friends and family.

Sure enough, Eliza is among them, beaming down at both of her daughters with unspeakable pride. 

“Mom!” Alex exclaims. Both she and Kara wave in acknowledgement, giant grins across their faces.

Eliza’s not alone. The boys — Mike, James, Winn, and Brainy — are all packed in next to her. They’re decked out in Comet gear (they have plenty, save Brainy who seems to have just been quickly tossed into one of James’s oversized shirts) and Mike and James have both painted half of their faces sky blue in a show of extra spirit. 

Kara’s not sure which of the boys is smiling the largest, except for Brainy, who looks mellow as always. They’ve made signs in a grand show of support; Winn holds up ‘Danvers #2’ while Mike has ‘Danvers #11’. Brainy’s even holding a sign of his own, a large piece of white paper with the word “Sports!” scribbled across it.

“Hey!” Mike and Winn roar simultaneously, waving down to the Danvers’ sisters. Winn’s face is just a little too red.

“They’re definitely drunk,” Alex deadpans. “Our friends are drunk and sitting next to our mother.”

“Yup,” Kara agrees. “Happy finals.”

“Happy finals,” Alex shakes her head, smiling. “You see Brainy?”

“Yeah,” Kara laughs, giving them all one final wave before turning around. “He’s precious.”

The starting ceremonies all blur together. Kara lines up, waits for her name and number to be called, then does her signature walk-out (miming ripping her shirt apart, a nod to Kal, who once actually did that in a moment of celebration after his first ‘MBL finals win). She’s done it a hundred times before.

There’s just one important addition this time — a wink and a smirk sent courtside, to the owner of a pair of enchanting green eyes and Kara’s heart.

Lena smiles back at her, crimson red lips twisted upwards, and for a single second, they’re the only two people in the room.

Then everything around the court falls away as Kara locks into the task at hand, confined solely to the four corners of tonight’s gladiatorial arena. The team huddles up, J’onn gives them directions, then Alex, Lucy, and Kara all make brief motivational speeches (Kara fully blacked out while she was speaking, but Nia will later inform her it was very motivational), and the Comets break apart with a thunderous cheer.

Kara very briefly makes eye contact with Leslie Willis as they line up on the court, who’s all but sparking like an exposed wire, and it does absolutely nothing to quench the adrenaline in her veins.

The game begins at the whistle. M’gann wins them the tip-off, and it sets the Comets’ pace from the start.

“Yeah, M’gann!” Kara cheers, shuffling away from Alex, who’s currently in possession of the ball. Alex looks over to Lucy, but she’s currently wrestling with Leslie for any semblance of personal space.

Kara darts forward, past one of the Starling players, free and clear.

“Kara!” Alex calls, and Kara holds her hands up to receive her sister’s pass out of instinct. A few dribbles down the court and she pulls up for the three, ball arching effortlessly through the air.

It goes in, and with that, Kara’s the first to draw blood.

But she’s not the last.

The first quarter becomes a blur. Starling finds their rhythm just as quickly as NCU does, and the game is ferocious. Every basket is answered with another in retaliation. Neither team can afford for their response to fall short, so as fatigue sets in towards the end of the first quarter, the sound of a whistle blown is a relief for both parties.

“Bertinelli is number four, right?” Alex asks.

“Yeah,” Kara nods.

“God, she can shoot,” Alex remarks. The look on her face is a bit haggard.

“So can you,” Kara reminds. “You, like, have the highest three-point percentage in the standings or something. No big deal.”

“Says the girl with the third-highest,” Alex gives a humble nod. “I think I’m getting old.”

Kara makes a face, hands on her hips. “Oh, now who’s being overdramatic?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Alex huffs, nudging her sister with her shoulder. “Good playmaking out there.”

“Thank you,” Kara grins. “We’re gonna win this thing, Alex. I can feel it.”

“Yeah,” Alex agrees, allowing Kara’s resolute faith to overwhelm her other thoughts. “Yeah, we are.”

They join the rest of the team in the huddle. J’onn’s already scribbling away at this whiteboard. It’s hardly ever legible, but the team just nods along emphatically and hopes that their best guesses will do.

The second quarter seems to drag out forever. Kara’s lungs are heaving with incredible effort, her legs burning, and a constant trickle of sweat rains from her hairline. It’s an exacting dance — call out the play, set things in motion, get open, and shoot when the ball finds its way into her hands.

At one point, Maggie’s eyes meet hers, and Kara knows she’s about to be passed the ball, but it’s a bad idea — the angle’s not right and Starling is liable to pick it off easily.

“To Major!” Kara yells Lucy’s nickname, frantically hoping it’s fast enough for Maggie to process. “Kick it to Major!”

Maggie’s wrists flick at the last second, and the fated direction of the pass changes away from Kara.

It ends up being the right call, as Lucy threads right through the defenders and tosses the ball up in a picture-perfect layup. The swooshing sound is like music to Kara’s ears.

“There we go!” Kara cheers, pumping a fist. “Keep it up, Comets!”

The initial adrenaline and excitement has worn off by the end of the second quarter, and Kara has to dig deep to keep pushing. Starling offers little leeway to take a breather. Kara’s competitive spirit and endless tenacity will be enough to keep her going until she drops, but it doesn’t mean she isn’t also getting a little tired and thirsty.

So thirsty.

A few minutes later, a buzzer rings out, drowning out the crowd. Halftime. Thank whatever deity, Kara just wants some fucking water.

“Having fun?” Alex asks, out of breath, as they head for the sideline.

“You know it,” Kara gives a brilliant smile, equally as winded. She untucks her jersey to wipe the sweat from her eyes, then quickly re-tucks it.

Lucy joins them on their path. “I’m gonna kill her,” Lucy says.

“Who?” Kara asks.

“Do you even need to ask?” Lucy seethes, but the anger isn’t directed at Kara. “Leslie. I’m going to have bruised ribs for days. If she fucking elbows me one more time …”

“Hey,” Alex warns. They’re within earshot of the bench, the refs, and the support staff now. “Focus up.”

Kara takes a deep inhale to steady herself as Lucy murmurs, “Aye, aye, capt’n.”

Halftime is a welcome recharge for the Comets, but it works both ways. Starling comes out in the third quarter looking for blood. They’ve done some positional adjustments, and now Kara finds herself guarded by none other than Leslie Willis.

“Leslie,” Kara acknowledges with a nod, always one for sportsmanship.

Leslie returns the greeting by jockeying up against Kara’s side, a little too rough for what’s necessary in preparation for the tip-off. 

“Kiss my ass, _Supergirl_ ,” Leslie sneers, too quiet for the refs to hear.

Kara sighs. Of course things wouldn’t be civil. She had tried, at least.

Starling comes up with the ball, and they separate as play begins.

Kara gets a hot hand about two minutes into the third quarter and it’s incredible. It’s like she can’t miss. The team seems to sense it, so the balls keep getting funneled to her, and sure enough, she delivers. Supergirl always does.

“Have I told you lately that you’re my favorite person?” Alex says, a look of guarded relief across her face as they high-five.

“You can always say it more,” Kara grins, shooting her sister a cocky smile.

At one point, the Comets pull ahead by eight points, and Kara’s ready for the game to end then and there.

Unfortunately, there's still a few more minutes and a whole ‘nother quarter to go.

The better Kara plays, the more agitated Leslie seems to get. It’s a bit like pouring water over an electrical outlet; things start to get volatile and disastrous. Leslie’s elbows test the integrity of Kara’s ribs and she starts yanking down on Kara’s shorts as they grapple for space.

The dirty moves are not new, but they’re starting to get on Kara’s nerves.

“Trying to get into my pants again, Leslie?” Kara teases, low enough only Leslie will hear. “I’m flattered, but not interested.”

Leslie lets out an irate growl and checks Kara with her hip. Alex, currently grabbing water on the sideline, notices the whole scene.

The buzzer concludes the third quarter. When Kara makes her way to the sideline, Alex’s hand finds the back of her neck and she pulls her sister under an intense glare.

“Stop provoking Leslie,” Alex warns.

“She started it,” Kara grumbles.

“I don’t care,” Alex says. “She’s baiting you. If you bite, you’re giving her what she wants.”

“It’d be the first time I do,” Kara says, her rueful tone clearly referencing their dynamic beyond basketball.

“Mom’s watching,” Alex tries a new tactic.

“Eliza never liked Leslie,” Kara replies.

Alex sighs. “We can’t afford for you to get any fouls.”

“I won’t get caught.”

“You will. Focus on what matters,” Alex hisses. She grabs Kara’s left arm, right over her shooting sleeve, and digs her thumb into the spot where she knows Kara’s necklace has been wrapped up and hidden.

It’s the anchor Kara needs. “Okay,” Kara exhales. “I’m on it.”

Kara gets her revenge in the fourth quarter but she doesn’t have to stoop to Leslie’s level to do it. She executes a perfect step-back from the top of the circle and Leslie falls backwards, ankles metaphorically broken, unable to adjust her momentum to keep up. She slides away from Kara along the smooth floorboards.

Kara knows the ball’s headed into the hoop as it leaves her hands. Leslie doesn’t even bother to turn around to see for herself; the roar of the crowd is confirmation enough.

Their eyes meet in a way that can only be described as violent, steel blue looking down from above. Kara’s face contorts into an arrogant smile.

There’s a reason they all call her Supergirl. 

(But there’s a reason why Leslie gets called Livewire too.)

There’s only two minutes left in the game, Comets now down by two, when Kara’s memory of _why_ is jolted to the surface.

She’s a few feet before the top of the circle, her favorite spot to shoot threes, when Lucy feeds the ball right into her hands — _catch and release, Kara_ — and she’s up in the air, just like that. 

For a split second, she might as well be floating. The ball’s barely touching a few of her fingers when platinum blonde hair and an outstretched hand flash in front of her face. It’s followed by the feeling of a body ramming up against her own.

Leslie.

Kara’s eyes shut as she falls. Something’s not quite right but there’s nothing she can do in time. The floor comes up to meet her, and her eyes are forced open by the shock of the impact.

The pain is galvanizing.

* * *

Kara’s cry of pain is a sound Lena will never in her life forget.

It pierces through the rest of the arena noise, leaving anxious silence in its wake. All eyes in the house fall on Kara’s crumpled form. Just the sight of her makes Lena’s blood run so blazing hot, it turns paradoxically cold.

Kara had pulled up to shoot the ball — with plenty of space to spare, thanks to a maneuver from M’gann that Jack had explained was called a ‘screen’ — when out of nowhere, a Starling player with platinum blonde hair all but charged Kara and knocked her out of the air. Kara had been fully unprepared for the impact, and fell backwards harshly; one arm moved to brace herself but it didn't quite extend in time.

Lena almost wishes she didn’t know it was Leslie Willis, but she does, and she’s ready to wage war against her named enemy.

Lena’s on her feet before she realizes it, magnetized towards Kara’s crumpled form, halfway through her first step forward, when Jack’s big hand abruptly yanks her back down into her chair. 

“Sit down,” Jack orders. It’s not malicious but Lena’s about ready to rip his arm off in the moment. Nothing else matters but Kara.

Andrea’s hand appears on her other forearm, a comforting shackle where Jack’s is a blunt restraint.

“You can’t do anything, Lena,” Andrea reassures her.

Lena isn’t the only one in the arena being forcibly restrained.

The instant Kara’s body hits the ground, the Comets are in motion like it’s the start of a battle royale.

Lucy is the closest to her, and immediately makes a beeline for Leslie. She’s got one hand cocked and curled into a fist, but thanks to the quick intervention of M’gann — who catches Lucy’s arm from behind with her own and another around her waist — the fist never has a chance to follow-through, preventing Lucy from doing something that would certainly get her permanently ejected from the game.

Alex gets there next, directly to Kara’s side. She drops right to her knees with no regard for their health, and sets a comforting hand on Kara’s right side, looking her up and down frantically. Kara makes some sort of pained exhale and Alex immediately jerks her hand back. Alex drops herself down lower, and slowly helps Kara roll onto her back.

By that time, Maggie’s there too. Despite the size difference, she’s stopping Leslie from advancing forward over Kara’s fallen form, buying Alex some space to attend to her sister. Leslie’s barking up a storm like some crazed dog, but as Maggie forces her to take a few steps back, it shifts into silent, smug arrogance.

What strikes Lena the most out of all the chaos is how unbelievably _tiny_ Kara looks in the middle of the arena floor, curled up in a little ball of white and sky blue.

 _Come on, darling,_ Lena prays. _Get up, please._

There’s a flurry of activity on the NCU sideline, but Lena only spares them a single glance, turning right back to Kara.

A whistle cuts through the air.

“They’re calling it a flagrant foul,” Jack comments. “Which it definitely was.”

Starling’s coach, Leslie, and one other green player all begin to protest the call, but it’s dismissed fairly quickly. 

By now, Kara’s sitting up on the floor, left arm tucked into her side, bent over slightly at the waist. Alex is kneeling between her outstretched legs. The two sisters are having some sort of passionate exchange, both nodding at each other. Lena can’t exactly see Kara's face, but she doesn’t need to; it’s clear by the blonde’s body language that she’s in pain. Her jaw is clenched so tight she threatens to bite clean through her mouthguard.

She’s in more pain than Lena’s ever seen her in before.

Lena discovers a new sense of fury the second she realizes the cause. There’s a bony protrusion under the skin of Kara’s left shoulder, and an odd gap below. Kara’s holding her arm at a weird angle, elbow tight to her side, and forearm dangling limply forward into her lap.

Kara’s shoulder is clearly dislocated.

It’s a harsh kick to Lena’s gut, sowing a wave of nausea in its wake. It shouldn’t _look like that_.

But to Lena’s confusion, Kara doesn’t come off the court like the last time she was injured in a game. Instead, Alex pulls Kara to her feet by her good arm, and the other players all mill around with some sort of positional intent while the referees spread out around the court again.

Lucy, who had darted over to the sidelines to exchange information with J’onn, runs over to Alex and Kara and tells them something with an intense look on her face.

It only confuses Lena further.

Why isn’t Kara coming off? Why isn’t anyone tending to her arm? What the hell is going on?

“What is she doing?” Lena asks, now clutching Jack’s forearm in a deathgrip of worry. “Why are they still letting her play?”

“She’s just taking her free throws,” Jack explains. He’s doing his best to keep his voice level and calm, even though Lena’s hand is crushing his arm. “When the Starling player—”

“—Leslie—”

Jack squints at her. “How do you know her name?”

Lena sighs. “She’s Kara ex. They dated for several months freshman year.”

“Oh … _ouch_ ,” Jack winces. “Well, alright, so Leslie fouled Kara at the three-point line, which means she’ll get three free throws. Then they’ll take her out of the game.”

“Right,” Lena nods, her memory stirring with some brief explanations Kara had given her over time. “Alright.”

She takes a deep breath and tries to force herself to relax. It doesn’t work. Andrea asks Jack for some sort of clarification, but Lena doesn’t hear the exchange at all.

Lena’s not sure if she breathes once the entire time Kara’s on the court. The blonde’s escorted to the free throw line by Alex, who looks just as worried as Lena feels. The Starling and NCU players all line up under the basket and around the circle, a cacophony of white and green, and then a ref blows a whistle.

Kara’s been dribbling the ball in place with great intent, left arm tucked uselessly into her side, but once the whistle rings out, she pulls her right arm up and launches the ball towards the basket. The motion is surprisingly fluid but the ball doesn’t quite hit the mark. 

Kara’s jaw tenses, but it’s unclear if it’s in frustration or pain — probably both.

Lena sucks in a sharp inhale.

“It’s okay,” Jack assures. “She’s got two more, and she’s got the best free-throw shooting percentage in college basketball. She’ll adjust.”

“The score of the game isn’t exactly my main concern right now,” Lena murmurs, watching Kara’s every motion. There is something deeply unsettling about the shape of her left shoulder.

“It’s probably Kara’s,” Jack mumbles. (He’s right.)

Lena only half-hears him as Kara goes to shoot her second free-throw. To his credit, Jack’s right; Kara makes an adjustment, and this time the ball soars through the hoop perfectly.

So does the third, and with that, Kara’s tied up the game for the Comets.

Despite Lena’s claim that she doesn’t care about the score, she does feel as though she can breathe a little easier now. Or maybe it’s just because Kara’s since darted over to the sidelines and is now being swarmed by medical staff.

Lena finds that she can’t take her eyes off of Kara, despite the fact there’s only minutes to go left in the game. The energy in the air is frantic, each team desperate to establish a lead. There’s so, so much yelling.

At some point, Kara breaks away from the medical staff and begins to dodge around the sidelines to avoid them. They’ve already gotten some sort of pillow under her dislocated arm, held in place by some sort of pink-beige elastic compression wrap around the entirety of her torso, but whatever the next step is, Kara is clearly _not_ on board with it.

She only has eyes for what’s happening on the court.

The score’s 74-76, Starling. With only a few seconds left, Lena can pick Kara’s voice out above the rest.

“Dreamer, to Doc!” Kara yells. Lena has no idea what it means, but Kara’s yelling it with such intent it must be crucial. “To Doc!”

Lena tears her eyes away from Kara to follow the motion of the blonde’s outstretched hand. An NCU player has the ball; Lena recognizes it as Nia, and the ‘Dreamer’ moniker suddenly clicks. She has no idea who ‘Doc’ might be, but the ball ends up in Alex’s hands.

The older Danvers jumps upwards, and the ball is flying through the air as the buzzer blares.

The next few seconds last an eternity.

The basketball continues it’s arc at a leisurely pace, completely unconcerned with the fact that tens of thousands of eyes are set upon it. It hits the glass, deflects downwards, and passes through the net with the most relieving _swish_ Lena’s ever heard.

The final scoreboard reads 00:00, 77-76, NCU.

They’ve done it.

Kara, Alex, the rest of the Comets — _they’ve done it_.

They’re National Champions.

There’s so much motion and energy condensed into the next few minutes, Lena can hardly track it all.

She sees Maggie jump straight into Alex’s arms, who staggers back a step with the momentum, wrapping her arms under the smaller woman’s legs as they come to cradle her sides. Their lips press together for just the briefest of moments, then the entire team is upon them. Lena’s pretty sure it’s Lucy that starts the dogpile. Maggie is buried in an instant but Alex somehow escapes, and she and Kara collide somewhere around half-court.

The sisters exchange a few words, foreheads pressed together. It’s incredibly intimate to watch. Once they break apart, Alex wastes no time in immediately inspecting Kara’s shoulder, who has absolutely zero patience for it, and drags Alex off behind her with her good arm as they rejoin the team.

Somehow, Lena’s not exactly sure _when_ , but she, Jack, and Andrea all end up on their feet, clapping and whooping enthusiastically for the Comets.

By some slight-of-hand, a stage appears in the middle of the court. The entire Comets roster is up on it instantly, wearing fresh black shirts that read ‘National Champions’, and gold and white towels hanging like laurels around their necks. They all swarm around a tall, shining, golden trophy, as a man in a suit speaks into a microphone. He’s apparently the commissioner.

After he says a bunch of words that Lena absolutely doesn’t hear, he hands the giant golden trophy to J’onn, who then says some words of his own. The players jostle and cheer all around him, arms thrown over each other’s shoulders and smiles on every single face. Sky blue, white, and black confetti rains from the air, and smoke pours out around the stage.

But for all the spectacle, there’s only one sight in the room that matters to Lena.

Kara.

Her face is still flushed red, and little wisps of blonde hair escape from behind her headband. The towel hangs over her left shoulder, and the black T-shirt over her right, like some sort of gladiator’s mantle. The compression wrap around her torso has loosened and slid, exposing the tips of the bright blue ‘11’ that adorns Kara’s chest.

Kara’s eyes find Lena’s and an entire conversation occurs without a single world being said.

_I’m okay, I promise._

_You did it._

_I did it!_

_I love you._

_I love you too, so much._

The commissioner hands off the microphone to Alex next, to say some more words, then M’gann, who's thankfully brief — (why is there so much _talking_?) — and then Alex ends up holding the microphone in front of Kara’s face. Lena actually catches the next part; Kara’s awarded the Most Outstanding Player award, out of all the players in the tournament, for her absolutely super performance over the past several weeks, but tonight most of all.

It’s the only correct choice, in Lena’s opinion.

There are countless flashes of white as photos upon photos are snapped to preserve the moment for ages to come.

The team is then allowed to disperse from the stage, to where there’s people waiting for them below. J’onn gets up on some ladder and cuts the net down from the metal rim, waiving it victoriously in the air. The crowd cheers accordingly. Lena’s too busy to join in, focused instead on Kara’s whereabouts. It’s hard to find her though, as the Comets scatter to embrace friends and family, and a muddled sea of black and white is created.

Lena can see Maggie — who’s carrying the trophy around like a baby — and Lucy, who’s being held fully aloft in a bear bug from James. Even Alex’s pops into her view at one point, embracing Mike and Winn at the same time. But not Kara.

Kara ends up finding Lena first.

Their eyes connect across the room once more, and Kara sets off towards Lena like a speeding asteroid undeterred in its collision course. 

She only slows at one point — about halfway to Lena — as she shoves two fingers deep into the inside of the shooting sleeve over her left arm. Kara’s face contorts into a grimace of utter agony until she removes her hand. Her fist comes away balled up tight, and the look of extreme pain across her face quickly fades back to dull discomfort.

“Lena!” Kara gasps, her chest heaving (from pain or exertion, Lena’s not sure), and breaks out into a grin that could make even a solar flare seem dull.

Lena goes to return the greeting, but Kara’s warm, slightly-chapped lips are already pressed against hers.

Their teeth clink together just the slightest amount at first — such is the danger of kissing while joyously happy — but neither of them seem to mind at all. Lena pulls her into a deeper kiss, one hand intentionally pushing against Kara’s right collarbone so her sweet, impulsive idiot doesn’t crush her wounded arm between their bodies, and her other hand cups at the nape of Kara’s sweaty neck.

The only sensation she can feel is _Kara_.

Warmth, joy, happiness, love, excitement, hope. Everything that Kara is.

It lasts for an eternity and a split-second, and then Kara’s pulling away for air.

There’s just the slightest tick of motion over Kara’s right shoulder, and Lena’s eyes are drawn right to it. 

Standing there, mouth agape, is Lucy Lane, who’s going through an absolute rainbow of emotions as she just stares at Kara’s body pressed up tight against Lena’s. 

The predominant thought seems to be ‘oh, _shit!’_ , which is one both Lena and Lucy share.

“Kara,” Lena warns, eyes still on Lucy.

“I know,” Kara exhales, eyes still half-closed. “I don’t care.”

Lena’s not quite sure if that statement is true for herself or not, but she doesn’t have time to figure it out before Kara’s fist is being urgently pressed into one of Lena’s hands, and that becomes the primary focus.

“Take this,” Kara states, blue eyes suddenly like steel in their intensity. Her tone is one of incredible weight, and for a second Lena’s confused, until she closes her own hand around the item Kara’s handing her. “Bring it to the hospital. Wait for Alex; she’ll explain.”

The heft and the smoothness of the gold is unmistakable, as is the pentagon shape of the pendant’s edges.

It’s Kara’s necklace.

Wait. Wait …

“Wait, Kara, the _hospital?”_ Lena yells after her, but the woman is already several feet away and absolutely swarmed by medical staff again. They quickly disappear into the crowd, and Lena’s left clutching Kara’s necklace like it’s the only thing she lives for, blinking in wordless confusion. 

There’s a moment of silence as Lena continues to try and wrap her head around everything that had just happened. Lucy saw them. Lena’s now holding Kara’s necklace. Kara’s going to the hospital.

Kara’s going to the _hospital?_

“Lena?" Jack asks, voice full of tender concern.

“I’m fine,” Lena assures as they cluster up with each other. “Do either of you see Alex Danvers anywhere?”

“Coming in hot,” Jack says, nodding to something over Lena’s shoulder.

“Luthor!” Alex calls, walking over with purpose. “You’re with me.”

“Alex, what’s going on?” Lena asks. The joyous chaos of the post-game celebration continues to rain down all around them, but the look on Alex’s face is nothing but grim and determined.

Alex frowns. “Kara didn’t tell you?”

“They were too busy making out,” Jack pipes up from behind Lena. It’s immediately followed by the sound of the back of Andrea’s hand slapping Jack’s chest.

“Yeah, I saw,” Alex sighs. “We don’t have time to talk about that; Kara’s headed to the hospital so they can put her shoulder back in place. She and Mom are riding there in the ambulance—”

“—Ambulance?” Lena’s eyes go wide and her jaw snaps shut.

“Just standard procedure,” Alex assures. “Our mom went with her, but she gave me the keys to her rental car to go meet up with them. I’m headed there now; you coming?”

“Yes,” Lena says, mind empty. The only thing that matters is getting to Kara.

“Good,” Alex exhales. “Let’s go.”

Despite the fact that her feet are already on the move, Lena turns back around to shoot an uncertain glance at her friends. She had been their designated driver there, after all.

“We’re good,” Jack promises, bravado set aside in an instant to be Lena’s rock. “Go get your girl.”

“I’m alright to drive,” Andrea adds. “I’ll text you later.”

Lena nods once and swallows roughly, turning back to face Alex with a new twisting in her gut.

Well, it would seem that Lena is, in fact, destined to meet Eliza Danvers today.

“Good?” Alex asks, eyebrows raised impatiently.

Lena clutches Kara’s necklace tighter in her closed fist. “Lead the way.”

Alex sets them off on a brisk pace — Lena can walk fast, even in heels — but Alex Danvers walks _fast_. Like an agent hell-bent on completing her mission. Which is objectively true right now, as Lena would imagine there’s not a single force that could stop Alex from reaching whatever hospital they’ve taken Kara to.

She can sympathize. Just the idea of Kara in the hospital, even for something as far from life-threatening as this, makes Lena feel a bit malevolent.

Alex takes them deeper into the bowels of the arena, weaving through concrete halls full of security and staff with a brief familiarity. They end up in a corridor that obviously leads into the Comets’ temporary locker room. Lena can feel the deep thrum of a bassline in her ribcage, emanating from behind the door — it’s clear NCU has wasted no time in beginning their raucous celebration.

“Give me five minutes to grab Kara’s stuff,” Alex says, then quickly types in a code to bypass the locker room door lock. For the few brief moments the door is open for, Lena can hear the music in crystal-clear, deafening resolution; some line about being ' _so fuckin’ done with all the games you play'_ , but then there’s a metallic click and it’s all warbled again.

Lena’s left alone in the hallway to grapple with the gravity of whatever the next few hours will bring.

She’s about to be stuck sitting in Gateway City’s horrible traffic with a very anxious and adrenaline-fueled Alex Danvers on their way to the hospital. To visit Kara, her — (oh for fuck’s sake, how have they _still_ not talked about this?) — her … Kara, who’s currently dealing with a dislocated shoulder. And oh, and when they get to said hospital, she’ll inevitably meet Kara’s mother for the first time.

It’s fine.

Alex emerges only a few minutes later, one NCU basketball-branded backpack over each shoulder. 

“Ready?”

“Let’s go,” Lena exhales.

She imagines they’ll head back out the way they came in, and filter out of the building with the rest of the massive crowd. Being amongst all those people is not exactly something she’s used to, and she’s rather fond of her personal space, so Lena breathes a sigh of relief when it becomes apparent they won’t be doing that.

“This way,” Alex says, nodding her head the other direction. “There’s a side exit by the training room.”

They almost make it out of the building without issue. Almost. But as they make their final approach to the side exit, just past a room full of staff and physical therapy equipment, there’s a sound that halts Alex in her tracks.

“Hey!” an abrasive voice calls after them, echoing down the mostly empty hallway. “Alex Danvers!”

Alex whips around first, jaw clenched in what Lena would imagine is unpleasant familiarity.

Lena turns to see a woman’s figure stalking down the hallway towards them. It’s just her, Lena, and Alex in the whole corridor; everyone else is somehow miraculously gone, like animals before a hurricane.

Alex lets out a low sigh from deep in her throat. “Great.” 

She rolls her shoulders back, standing impossibly tall, her jaw set firmly with fires alight in her eyes.

Lena opens her mouth to ask who the woman is, when she recognizes the distinct color of bleach-blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, and the smug, angry expression of Lena’s newest enemy.

Leslie Willis. Or alternatively, the person in the world Lena would love nothing more than to absolutely _destroy_ after what she did to Kara.

Leslie slows as she gets closer to them. Her eyes are red and swollen; she’s clearly been crying, but there’s a stiff rage to all her movements too.

“Leslie,” Alex growls, slowly stepping forward in a territorial motion. “I never fucking liked you, but that stunt you pulled out there with Kara, that’s some next level bullshit. That was a dirty move and you know it.”

“Oh, Alex,” Leslie patronizes. “Ever the big bad badass. Doesn’t it get boring, being your sister’s keeper?

“God, you are unbelievable,” Alex scoffs. “Two years later and you _still_ can’t even lose with dignity. You never could.”

“Ugh, spare me the sportsmanship lecture,” Leslie sneers. “I’m not here for you. Where might I find my lovely ex? We have some unfinished business.”

“Halfway to the hospital, thanks to you,” Alex bites. “But if you wanna go see her, I’ll be happy to send you there myself.”

“Oh, I’m quaking in my boots,” Leslie retorts. “You can’t do shit, Alex, and we both know it. You can’t dare risk your little victory for retaliation.”

“You’re right.” The words slip from Lena’s mouth so easily, like a sharp steel blade suddenly exposed to the air. “Alex can’t retaliate.”

Leslie turns to acknowledge Lena for the first time since the engagement began. “The fuck are you doing with Lena Luthor, Danvers?”

Lena gives her a polite smile, deadly in it’s inauthenticity. “Alex is not the one you should be concerned with right now, Leslie.”

“Oh, yeah?” Leslie gives her an unimpressed look. “And what are you gonna do? Give me a lecture on the latest designer fashions? Uninvite me from the country club?”

“Actually, that’s up to you,” Lena coldly states. “And how badly you want to piss me off. See, Leslie, right now, you’re in a pretty decent spot. You played well, even though your team just lost. You can still be the humble runner-up and go home with your tail between your legs. Not fun, but still respectable enough.”

“Or …?” Leslie rolls her eyes. “God, you two are going to bore me to death with these lame-ass threats.”

That does it. Lena takes three slow, cool, crisp steps forward, now between Leslie and Alex.

“Or I act like _Lena Luthor_ ,” Lena gives her a cruel smile, vengeance fully settled into her bones. “I would imagine you’re declaring for the draft soon, aren’t you Leslie?“

Leslie’s silent glare answers for itself.

“Right, that’s what I thought,” Lena says, her venomous smile still perfectly cocked across her face. “You know who I am, and you know who my family is. I would imagine you can also do the basic addition required to know that my family could buy an ‘WBL team as easily as buying a fucking candy bar. And if you decide to piss me off, Leslie, that’s _exactly_ what I’ll do.”

Leslie blanches like there’s suddenly no air in the room, but Lena feels as if she’s a fire with endless fuel.

“I’ll buy a whole fucking basketball team,” Lena threatens. “It doesn’t matter which one; as long as you’re on the roster. And then I’ll spend the rest of your short-tenured career making your life a living _hell_. You might’ve fucked with Kara, you can try to fuck with Alex, but you’ve never fucked with me before. Which is fortunate for you, really, because _if you do_ , it’ll be the _last_ thing you ever do. Have I made myself sufficiently clear?”

Leslie’s shocked expression is one of an upstart animal that knows it should scurry off and start to lick its wounds, but it’s pride is just a little too intact to give into self-preservation. 

“Actually, I have _fucked_ with Kara,” Leslie sneers, but there’s a waiver of doubt to her taunt, and Lena can smell it like blood in the water. “And it seems like I’m not the only one now. It’s funny though, I never would’ve guessed — I thought Kara _hated_ you. But I guess desperation makes people sink to crazy things.”

She gives Lena a jeering look, clearly having connected why Alex is now consorting with Lena Luthor. 

But her words are the final step forward into Lena’s steel trap, and the Luthor grins in smug satisfaction as it’s sprung.

“Observant. Yes, Kara and I are fucking …” Lena says simply. 

Then in one smooth motion, Lena unfurls Kara’s necklace from her enclosed fist, fastens it around her neck, sweeps her hair out with a dramatic flourish, then juts her chin forward in a final show of dominance. Leslie’s eyes are drawn immediately to the brilliant gold — it’s clear she recognizes it instantly, as Lena suspected she would.

“… and a little bit more than that too,” Lena finishes.

Lena takes one final step forward, and Leslie is forced to stagger back a step. Her eyes are still locked onto the pendant resting over Lena’s heart, full of hurt and confusion.

“I would do _anything_ for Kara, Leslie,” Lena warns. Her voice is low and utterly enthralling. “And unlike any other uninspired version of this scenario, I actually have the means to do it. So I highly suggest that you are the image of civility next time you and Kara meet, on the court or off of it. Or else I _will_ follow through on my threat. Luthors always do.”

“Whatever,” Leslie bites, but fear has fully drained the animosity from her voice. “Fuck you both.”

She spits on the ground, right in front of the tips of Lena’s heels.

“Classy,” Lena deadpans, not once dropping her smoldering glare.

Alex steps forward to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Lena, and Leslie finally seems to accept that she’s been outmatched. She takes a few steps backwards, flipping them both off, then shakes her head and turns around. 

Lena takes a deep breath to re-center herself as Leslie’s figure disappears back into the athletic training room, then turns to her side to find Alex still firm amongst the chaos.

Alex is currently looking at her with a mixture of amazement and respect, her lips twisted upwards and her eyes sparkling. “How much of that threat was genuine?”

“… All of it,” Lena admits.

“Well then, I think I owe Kara an apology for calling her an idiot,” Alex jokes. “Because that was the most satisfying shit I’ve ever seen.”

“While I appreciate the vote of confidence, we should probably get going,” Lena says, but she allows a small smile to peak through her icy mask.

“Yeah, lets get the fuck out of here,” Alex agrees. “And Lena? Welcome to the family.”

* * *


	21. a family affair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basketball, hospitals, and love; it’s all a family affair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so very much for all your kind words, comments, and kudos. I'm truly grateful for the support. I'm glad you all thoroughly enjoyed the last chapter; this one is a direct continuation of it (no time skip).
> 
> All mistakes are mine this time, please forgive them. Happy New Year!

* * *

Lena thought she would feel better once they made it through all the traffic to the hospital.

She does not.

The waiting room is the typical hospital waiting room: sterile surfaces, harsh fluorescent lighting, with people in scrubs and plainclothes milling about. The other patrons all have their own various maladies; Lena sees pale faces on some and blood on others. It’s thankfully not actually that busy, so she and Alex have more than enough space for themselves.

Lena clings to her usual cold Luthor poise, while Alex steadily radiates into something more volatile.

“It’ll be fine, Alex,” Lena tries to reassure. She knows, objectively, that a dislocated shoulder isn’t fatal, but it does little to quench the anxiety.

“You don’t know that,” Alex says. She paces up and down the row of chairs surrounding them. “There’s like a hundred different things that could go wrong. This could change everything for Kara’s career.”

Lena sits down next to the chair piled with Alex and Kara’s backpacks. There’s something oddly comforting about being close to Kara’s possessions.

“Focusing on that fact won’t help,” Lena says, crossing her legs and setting her hands in her lap. Her anxious energy has nowhere to go but her spine, setting it impossibly straight (her etiquette teacher would be so proud).

“How are you just sitting there like nothing’s wrong?” Alex asks, agitation making her words land harshly.

“I have feelings, Alex,” comes Lena’s sharp reminder. “Ice queen or not, I do care about Kara.”

“Sorry,” Alex huffs, looking a bit ashamed now.

Alex tries sitting down for a few minutes, in the chair across from Lena. Their eyes meet and Lena can see her own worry mirrored in Alex’s perfectly. They hold eye contact for a second too long, until Alex’s eyes shift south to the distracting glint of Kara’s necklace around Lena’s neck.

Alex doesn’t say anything, but her face does.

“What?” Lena asks, her jaw clenching in preemptive defense.

“Nothing,” Alex shakes her head. “It’s just kind of strange to see you wearing that.”

“Kara’s necklace?”

“Mm-hm,” Alex grunts a confirmation. “I’ve never seen it on anyone else before.”

Lena’s brows furrow; that can’t be right. “Ever?”

“Not really,” Alex says. “It doesn’t leave Kara’s body. For as long as I’ve known her, I’m the only other person that’s ever worn it, and that was only once — the day our dad died.”

Lena swallows roughly. She knew there was a certain gravitas to Kara letting her wear the necklace at Lillian’s fundraiser, but the tone of Alex’s voice makes Lena think she severely underestimated just how much. 

“Why would she let me wear it then?” Lena asks, lips twisting downward. “Twice, now.”

“You should ask Kara,” Alex says. “She’s the only one that can answer that.”

Lena nods.

“How did you even get it, anyway?” Alex asks, eyes narrowed at the pendant. “But nice dramatic reveal; Leslie looked like you sucker-punched her.”

Lena resists the urge to bring a protective hand up to cover it. “Kara slipped it into my hand, when we were—” 

She stops short at Alex’s overly-amused expression.

“Making out on the sideline?” Alex smirks, voice suddenly full of mirth. “Thank god.”

Lena clears her throat in a mild acknowledgment.

“By the way, I’m pretty sure _everyone_ saw that,” Alex warns.

“I’m aware,” Lena swallows roughly. “And you’re awfully smug considering your girlfriend just mounted you on the arena floor in front of your mother and coach.”

“Maggie did _not_ mount me,” Alex protests. “We were just celebrating.”

“Those aren’t mutually exclusive if you do it right, Alex,” Lena quips. “And why ‘thank god’?” 

“Oh, because it’s illegal for players to wear jewelry during games,” Alex explains. “But Kara would never play without it. She always hides it in her shooting sleeve, so the trainers definitely would’ve found it when they started to treat her shoulder.”

Wait, what?

“It’s illegal?” Lena frowns. “What would happen if it had been found?”

“Maybe nothing,” Alex shrugs. “Maybe something. It’s a terrible idea to even open ourselves up to being accused of breaking any rules, regardless of what the actual outcome might be.”

Lena frowns. “Why would Kara risk it?”

“You know why,” Alex says. “To her, some things are worth any risk.”

“And that doesn’t cause tension between her and the team?”

“Nah,” Alex says. “It’s pretty well hidden; I wrap it in myself. Besides, Kara would do anything for anyone on the team, so they extend the same faith to her with this.”

“Ah.” Lena had a feeling Kara inspired an incredible amount of loyalty, given her own experience, but among so many people … it leaves her in awe.

Wait.

“Leslie Willis used to be on your team, right?”

Alex nods.

“So Leslie knew Kara played with the necklace?” Lena frowns. “Why wouldn’t she have gone for that instead?”

Alex shrugs. “It’s not like having the necklace actually gives Kara an advantage; it’s just an arbitrary rule. And Leslie’s a fucking asshole, but she does know what that necklace means. Even she’s not enough of a bitch to weaponize one of the last things Kara has of her family … she actually did love Kara at one point.”

Lena snorts. “So this—” she gestures around the hospital waiting room, “—was the alternative option?”

“Like I said,” Alex says, rising to her feet to pace again. “Leslie’s a fucking asshole.”

The wait seems to stretch forever. 

And ever.

… and ever.

Alex busies herself by sneaking off to the cafeteria around the corner to nab a snack while Lena decides she’s better off standing up in front of her chair in a vigil. Being on her feet makes her feel more productive. She’s still as a statue though, her fingers hopelessly entangled and her eyes tracking Alex’s constant movement as she returns and begins to pace around while eating.

Andrea has texted Lena twice to ask how it’s going. Lena takes a moment to respond to inform her (and Jack, of course) that she doesn’t know.

While her head is bowed over her phone, there’s the sound of another plastic lid ripping open beside her.

“Seriously?” Lena stares, unimpressed, at the _third_ pudding cup in Alex’s hand. “Where do you keep getting those?”

The older Danvers sister glares back at her. “It’s called stress-eating—” Alex pauses to jab the handle of her plastic spoon into Lena’s side. 

“—Ow!” Lena protests, a hand coming up to nurse her abdomen.

“—and you’re ruining my concentration,” Alex finishes, waving her spoon around. “If you don’t mind, I’d prefer to focus on my delicious pudding, instead of the fact that my sister’s somewhere in this hospital with some doctor who’s busy yanking her arm back into its socket, hopefully not destroying her labrum in—”

“Alex,” Lena flinches.

Alex seems to realize her tone and words are doing little to help either of them, and backs down a notch. “Sorry. I know I can get … intense when I’m stressed.”

“It’s alright,” Lena reassures. “Have you heard anything from your mother recently?”

“No,” Alex gives her a grim look.

“That could be a good sign,” Lena logics. “If they’re with the doctors, your mother would likely be more preoccupied with that than her phone.”

“Yeah, true,” Alex says, before shoving a giant spoonful of pudding in her mouth.

A minute later, Lena can hear the sound of plastic scraping on plastic, and Alex whines, “Why are pudding cups so _small_?”

It’s the exact same tone with which Kara had once whined to Lena about how long her gown was in a bathroom stall, and Lena has to stifle a laugh.

Alex notices. “Oh, what’s so funny?” she accuses. “You know, you’re rich. You could just buy me another pudding cup instead of laughing at my misfortune.”

“Nothing,” Lena says with significant mirth. “You and Kara are just … definitely sisters.”

Alex narrows her eyes and fixes Lena with a glare akin to an interrogation technique, but they’re cut off by the sound of a warm greeting.

“Alexandra!”

Lena turns to face the source of the voice. The owner is a pretty, middle-aged woman with blonde hair and a warm smile, wearing a Comets Basketball shirt under her jacket.

Eliza Danvers.

Draped over one of her arms is a myriad of fabric — black, white, gold, and sky blue. As she gets closer, Lena recognizes it to be Kara’s championship shirt, towel, and shooting sleeve.

But there’s something she doesn’t have. Lena does.

And so in what feels like a moment of divine intervention, Lena suddenly remembers the necklace around her neck, presently visible for all to see. 

_Oh, absolutely not. Nope!_

Lena immediately pulls her jacket taut over her chest, arms crossed to hold it closed, indirectly hiding Kara’s necklace from view.

“Mom!” Alex embraces Eliza with firm arms and tensed hands, clearly seeking comfort.

“Everything’s okay, sweetie,” Eliza assures, pulling away with a reassuring smile. “Though _both_ you and Kara could use a shower. Do you have a bag?”

Already spotting the backpacks piled in the chair, she slides all the items from her arm into Alex’s hands without delay.

“Yeah,” Alex says, taking everything without once looking down. A small piece of white — Kara’s headband — slips through, but Lena steps forward and catches it without thinking. 

(It’s an instinctual action, small and insignificant, but one that Lena will find out has some unintended consequences. But that won’t come until later.)

The headband is wetter than Lena expects, so when Alex plucks it from her fingers and shoves it into Kara’s backpack with the rest, it’s admittedly to Lena’s relief.

“How long have you guys been here?” Alex asks Eliza. “We came as soon as we could.”

The instant the word ‘we’ leaves Alex’s mouth, Eliza’s eyes flicker over to Lena.

“Hi, I’m Eliza Danvers,” the woman smiles, offering out a hand. “Kara’s mother.”

Oh, fuck. Lena can’t remember the last time she was this nervous. Even her apology to Kara didn’t quite feel like this; it’s less in her chest but deeper in her gut.

“Lena,” she chokes out, very intentionally leaving it as just her first name. She shakes Eliza’s hand, careful to leave her other arm in place to keep her jacket closed. The handshake is firm and steady yet warm and soft.

“Kara’s girlfriend,” Alex adds unprompted.

Lena opens her mouth to protest the title, because _they haven’t talked about that yet, Alex_ , when Alex shoots her a glare that’s explicit in it’s meaning: _You are, don’t even try to deny it, Luthor._

“Well, it would’ve been nice to know Kara had a girlfriend,” Eliza lets out a kind-hearted chuckle. “But it’s wonderful to meet you, Lena.”

Wait, it can’t be that easy, right?

“I’ve been waiting for Kara to meet someone new,” Eliza continues. “It’s been ages since she’s dated.”

It’s a little ironic to hear, considering both Lena and Alex are well-aware that while Kara might not have been explicitly dating, she had still been living a rather, er, _social_ existence. And Kara’s relationship with Lena certainly hadn’t begun with a typical date, with the innocent holding of hands and pleasant small talk. 

Far, far from it.

“Chill, Mom, you’re gonna scare her off,” Alex laughs.

(Lena’s already fairly scared-off, but they don’t need to know that. It’s nothing they’ve done, it’s just who they are.)

“It’s lovely to meet you as well, Dr. Danvers,” Lena replies, much smoother than she feels on the inside. 

Lena does silently pat herself on the back for knowing Eliza’s proper title; she had done a bit of light (heavy) internet searching before this trip … just in case. Eliza Danvers had published a number of virology research papers in some rather prestigious journals, and in the name of maintaining her Luthor-perfect preparedness, Lena had taken it upon herself to read as many as possible.

“Oh, honey, call me Eliza, please,” Eliza beams.

Of course it’s that easy. It always somehow is with the Danvers, despite whatever anxious storm Lena brews up for herself.

Lena nods a humble acceptance, in the process of conjuring up some question from memory to ask Eliza about her research, when the conversation is derailed by Alex, who is thoroughly done with the pleasantries. 

“How is she?” Alex asks brusquely.

Eliza turns back to her daughter, a look of loving resignment on her face.

“Kara’s doing well,” she tells Alex in a very placating tone. She then turns to Lena, keen on keeping both young women equally a part of the conversation. “Her shoulder was dislocated.”

Before Eliza can continue further, Alex is already rattling off her next question. “Did they set it yet?”

“Yes,” Eliza answers, “They’re just verifying it by X-ray now. I’ll head back to be with Kara in a few minutes, but I wanted to come give you an update during the wait.”

Alex nods along with a somber look on her face. “How bad is it?”

Eliza takes a deep breath.

“Nothing is fractured, but the doctors aren’t certain if anything’s torn,” Eliza fixes Alex with a deadly serious expression. “She’s going to need a MRI to check.”

An MRI?

Lena’s stomach drops at the implications.

Alex takes a deep exhale, looking as grim as Lena feels. “Okay, I’ll handle it.”

“Do you want me to come back to National City?” Eliza asks. “I can call work and let them know I’m extending my trip for a few days.”

“No, it’s okay,” Alex insists. “Kara will just feel guilty if you do; you’ve been away from the lab so much already, traveling for all our games. It’ll be easier if I take point on this.”

“My sweet girl,” Eliza accepts, a rueful smile on her face. She cups Alex’s face in her hands and pulls her daughter in for another embrace. “I am so, so proud of you.”

It’s a display of maternal affection that jars Lena to her core. It feels impossible, like a fantasy come to life, but sure enough, it’s happening right in front of her very eyes.

“Well I’d hope so,” Alex says softly, picking up confidence with every word. Lena can tell there’s a story there, but it’s long-since been resolved. “I did just win my second national championship, after all.”

“With a buzzer-beater,” Eliza chuckles. Her eyes look a bit wetter now. “Oh, your father would be so proud; his ego would barely fit into this room.”

Alex chuckles, voice a little hoarse with emotion.

Lena feels as if she’s intruding on something deeply personal. Which she kind of is, but such is the nature of hospitals. Pain and joy and loss are all the foundations of one’s humanity, and a hospital, communal and far from private, is the prime embodiment of that.

“Danvers?” a nurse calls out into the waiting room. “We’re ready for you.”

Eliza locks eyes with the nurse and waves an acknowledgement, then turns back to face her daughter and Lena.

“Go get her,” Alex says, with a bit of impatience. Eliza squeezes Alex’s arm once, gives Lena a reassuring smile, and disappears with the nurse.

Alex and Lena are left alone again, and the anxiety floods back in, darker with tangible fixations this time. The short-haired woman lets out a long exhale.

“We need to talk about what my mom just said,” Alex says, a harsh frown now across her face. “About Kara needing an MRI.”

“I understand,” Lena states. “Kara told me about her claustrophobia, and the cause. That’s not going to make for a pleasant time, is it?”

“No,” Alex says darkly. “No, it’s not.”

“I can help you with finding a doctor,” Lena volunteers. “One of the perks of being a Luthor — the medical centers we own will bend over backwards to keep us happy. Might as well do some good with it.”

Alex sets her jaw and nods her permission. “The earlier you can get her seen, the better. Kara’s not known for being a good patient.”

“Consider it done,” Lena states. She already knows all it’ll take is one phone call and the surname _Luthor_ to be set in stone.

“Thanks,” Alex says. Her eyes lock onto something behind Lena’s head and it doesn’t take a genius to know the reason for the sudden relief in Alex’s eyes. 

Kara.

“We’ll finish this later; I’ll get your number from Kara.”

Lena nods and turns around, ready to receive the same solace as Alex.

There, looking haggard as hell yet immeasurably happy, is Kara Danvers — left arm in a sling and an indomitable smile across her face. Many wisps of blonde hair have escaped from her ponytail, and what was once a thick layer of sweat has since dried, leaving pink cheeks underneath. She’s still almost entirely in her uniform, the only difference being her shooting sleeve and headband Eliza had handed to Alex earlier.

“Kara!”

Lena’s not sure if it comes from her mouth or Alex’s, but it doesn’t matter. Kara’s headed for them like a speeding bullet through molasses; fast in intent, but not quite in actuality. Eliza is by her side, watching Kara’s every step forward with great care.

“Careful, sweetheart,” Eliza warns. “You need to take it easy.”

“Mmm, yeah,” Kara agrees, slowing her pace down a bit more.

Once within distance, Alex throws her arms around Kara, carefully buffering around her arm in a sling. 

“Oh my god,” Alex exhales. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine, Alex,” Kara chuckles, embracing her sister with equal vigor. She then turns to look at Lena, eyes full of exhaustion and love, and simply says, “Hi.”

“Hi,” Lena returns, rendered equally as ineloquent.

Kara is quite a sight to behold up close.

There’s a faint line of a vein bisecting her forehead and a tightness to her jaw, making Lena suspect there was quite a bit of discomfort during her shoulder reduction. Her eyelids droop a bit further down than usual, though it is nighttime, and she shifts her weight back and forth between her legs as if to balance which sore limb will handle the load.

For a split second, there’s a bubble of tension between her body and Lena’s, as if resisting the urge to touch Lena is akin to holding one’s breath for a moment too long. 

But movement is always inevitable, and Kara’s right arm gets slung over Lena’s shoulder, pulling her in for a hug. Lena stiffens at first, but relaxes after a deep inhale. They hug for a little longer than what friends do, until Kara pulls away, her hand trailing over Lena’s body for as long as possible.

“You guys made it,” Kara says. “That traffic was terrible.”

“It’s even worse when you’re not in an ambulance,” Alex grumbles, a hint of jealousy to her voice.

“I’m sure you’ll get to ride in one soon,” Kara says nonchalantly.

Lena’s brow furrows. Did Kara just threaten Alex?

Her confusion is noted by all three Danvers. 

“I’m going to med school,” Alex explains. Eliza grins at her oldest daughter. 

“We don’t call her ‘Doc’ for her bedside manner,” Kara mumbles, a tired smile on her face. Well, that explains Kara’s sideline ranting about passing the ball to ‘Doc’.

“Dr. Alex Danvers has a pleasant ring to it,” Lena offers a nod and a smile. “Congratulations. What school?”

“I haven’t decided yet; I wanted to wait until after the season,” Alex says. “But enough about me, I’m not the reason we’re all here right now. How’s your shoulder? You seem tired.”

“I am,” Kara yawns.

“They gave her lidocaine to help with the reduction process,” Eliza explains. Her eyes dart diplomatically between Alex and Lena, giving them equal instruction. “She’s still a little drowsy, but the doctors aren’t concerned; it should fade in a few hours.”

“Did they give you anything for later?” Alex asks. Kara shakes her head.

“Just ice for 20-minute intervals,” Eliza summarizes. “600 milligrams of ibuprofen for pain management, three times a day to start, then down to two when she can handle it.”

Alex nods along intently. 

It’s a sharp contrast to Kara, who looks beyond unconcerned with listening to the instructions. Her eyes are too busy, trained steadily on the space below Lena’s collarbone, exactly where Kara’s necklace hangs hidden around her neck, and for a split-second Lena can’t help but feel as though Kara has X-ray vision.

Kara looks up to Lena’s eyes at one point and realizes she’s been caught. Another wordless conversation occurs between them.

_You have it, right? It’s safe?_

_I have it. It’s safe._

_Where? Are you wearing it?_

_Yes._

Lena gently shifts her arms, slightly opening her jacket in the process, so Kara can get a glimpse of gold in confirmation.

Kara offers an almost imperceptible nod in acknowledgment and Lena covers it once more.

“Alex?” Eliza says, interrupting their silent exchange. “Why don’t we go get the car for Kara? Sweetheart, will you be okay waiting here?”

“Yeah,” Kara says a little too quickly. “We’re good.”

Kara’s mother and sister head out as discussed; Alex makes a grossed-out face at them over her shoulder. Kara sticks her tongue out in response before turning back to Lena.

“Are you okay?” Kara asks, eyes swimming with concern. She seemingly awakens a bit more in Lena’s lone presence.

“Am I okay?” Lena gives her an incredulous look, supercharged by hours of anxious waiting. “I’m not the one in the hospital, Kara! Are _you_ alright?”

“Technically, we’re both in the hospital,” Kara replies in good-humor. “Thank you for coming.”

“Of course, Kara, there’s no way I wouldn’t be here,” Lena says. “Is there anything you need? What can I do?”

“I’m good,” Kara assures. “Unless you can build me a new arm?”

A joke. Oh, that’s a good sign. Lena relaxes a little more.

“I’ll try my best,” Lena returns. “Though I think it might just be faster to wait for your current one to heal.”

“Doesn’t feel like it,” Kara grumbles.

“How badly does it hurt?” Lena asks, one hand halfway extended to touch said injured shoulder. She catches it and pulls it back before she makes contact.

“Feels a lot better now that it’s set, but it’s still pretty sore,” Kara says. The blonde picks up on how Lena’s eyes are riveted on the sling. “It’s okay, Lena, I’ve had worse.”

“I don’t appreciate that has become your unit of measurement,” Lena says. As harsh as her tone may be, Kara reacts to her words as if they’re a statement of concern. Which, arguably, they very much are.

“I’m fine, I promise,” Kara says. “Honestly, how could I not be? We just won another national championship, and you’re here fawning all over me.”

“Oh …” Lena blinks. “Well, good, I’m glad. And I’m not fawning all over you, Danvers.”

“Sure, Luthor,” Kara smirks. “It would be okay if you were though, you know. It’s a girlfriend’s right.”

Lena freezes. “Girlfriend?”

Kara’s face falls. “Yeah, uh … I-I thought that’s how Alex introduced you? Eliza came back into the room asking me when I got a girlfriend, so I—is that okay?”

“She did,” Lena says slowly. “It’s fine, I just … I wasn’t sure if that was what we were. I kept meaning to ask you for clarification, but there was a rather perpetual series of interruptions.”

“I mean … that’s what I’d like us to be,” Kara offers. “If that’s what you want to be?”

“I-I’d like that,” Lena smiles softly, as if afraid her words will shatter in the open air.

“Me too,” Kara agrees. They might be in a public waiting room, surrounded by other people, but for a moment, it’s just the two of them.

“I suppose you’ll want your necklace back,” Lena says, hands already behind her neck to undo the clasp. There’s the gentle pull of the weight leaving Lena’s skin.

“Oh, yeah, you—I-I do,” Kara fumbles. 

“Lean forward,” Lena murmurs. She wraps her arms over Kara’s shoulders, careful not to press any weight down, and re-clasps the golden sigil around Kara’s neck. The pendant hangs back in it’s rightful home.

“Thank you. It looks good on you, you know,” Kara whispers.

“About that,” Lena clears her throat. “Alex mentioned you’re rather selective about taking it off. Even more so about others wearing it.”

“Yeah,” Kara confirms in a soft tone. “It’s not really supposed to be worn by anyone that’s not from my family.”

Lena’s face twists into a puzzled frown. “Kara, why did you lend me the necklace at my mother’s fundraiser then? We weren’t even …” 

Kara shrugs — well, her best attempt at one, given the sling. “You needed it.”

“But Kara …” Lena trails off, woefully unable to articulate how she’s feeling.

“I trusted you,” Kara states plainly. “You needed it and I knew it would be safe with you. I know I haven’t always been great at showing I do trust you … but it’s always been true.”

Steel blue eyes are filled with a cocktail of emotions Lena can’t quite disseminate in time as Kara’s phone rings out at that exact moment.

Kara sighs and shoves a hand into her backpack, whipping the offending phone out.

“It’s Alex,” she informs Lena. “Hello?”

Lena can hear Alex’s warbled voice give Kara some sort of instructions relevant to ‘car’ and ‘outside’. She takes a deep breath to brace herself; this must be where she and Kara part. And she can’t deny she utterly hates the idea of that right now.

“Okay, okay,” Kara says. “ _Yes_ , Alex. We’re on our way.” She then hangs up and tucks her phone into the elastic waistband of her uniform shorts.

“What’s wrong?” Lena asks.

“Oh, nothing,” Kara smiles. “Alex and Eliza are waiting for us outside. We’re gonna take you back to your hotel.”

“You don’t have to do that, Kara,” Lena declines. “It’s out of the way. I’ll just order a ride-share.”

“Lena, there’s _no way_ Eliza is going to let you take a ride-share back. Even you won’t be able to get out of that one,” Kara chuckles. “Besides, I need to know where to sneak out to tonight.”

Lena’s heart flutters. More time with Kara?

“Sneak out?”

“Yeah,” Kara says nonchalantly, grabbing her backpack and slinging it over her good shoulder. “I want to spend more time with you. Besides, the whole team is gonna sneak out to party tonight anyway.”

“Is that right?” Lena cocks an eyebrow. “And just how will you all manage that? I thought J’onn had you under lockdown.”

“We’re sneaky,” Kara says. “J’onn gives us a very pointed speech that basically translates into ‘I know you idiots are going to sneak out and drink. Don’t let me catch you. Be safe, and for fuck’s sake, be alive and functioning tomorrow’. So it’s easy.”

“And what are the odds of that actually happening?” Lena asks.

“Coming back alive? 100%; we don’t leave anyone behind,” Kara replies. “Functioning? Not so much.”

“So you’ll come by after?” Lena asks. “How late should I stay up?”

“Nah, I was going to come over while the rest of the team’s out,” Kara yawns. “I’ll have plenty of time to celebrate with them when we get back to National City. But I really shouldn’t drink tonight and I’d much rather see you.”

“Oh,” Lena inhales. “I-if you’re sure, you’re welcome to come by then. Text me in advance and I’ll make sure there’s food waiting for you.”

“Sounds like a date,” Kara grins. “Now, let’s get out of here. We shouldn’t leave Alex alone with Eliza for too long; who knows what dirt she’s sharing on us.”

“Great,” Lena groans. 

Kara takes one of her hands in her own, and suddenly, Lena finds it easier to leave.

* * *

The knock on her door comes late at night.

She knew to expect it of course; it’s why there’s food in the fridge, why she’s wearing nothing but one of Kara’s basketball sweatshirts and a pair of shorts, and why the bed is made up a bit too immaculately in preparation for the unknown. But what she wasn’t expecting was the sight that would greet her behind the door.

Lena would never admit it to another soul, but it actually takes her a split-second to identify the person on the other side.

Kara wears _glasses?_

She does a double-take, still not quite believing how drastically unrecognizable they make Kara at first. But the number across her chest, half hidden by a sling, is a dead give-away.

“You wear glasses?” Lena frowns, disoriented by her own lack of recognition.

“Yup,” Kara smiles softly, pushing the glasses up her nose by the bridge. “Hello to you too.”

Temporary moment of confusion passed, Lena scans over Kara’s body. She still looks fairly worn-out, sleep pulling at her eyelids, but the adrenaline from the day’s events is still putting up a valiant fight. Her clothes are exactly the same as earlier, plus a jacket draped loosely over her shoulders, sling covered underneath, and a pair of slip-ons over her feet in lieu of her basketball shoes. It's clear she hasn’t changed or showered in the couple hours they were apart.

“Come in,” Lena welcomes. She opens the door further and Kara strolls through it. “I have food for you in the fridge.”

Predictably, Kara kicks off her shoes right away and makes a beeline for the kitchenette, offering up “Swanky room, Lena,” as a compliment on the way.

“You’re still in your uniform?” Lena asks as Kara resurfaces from the fridge.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Kara looks down at her clothes with a sheepish look. “I was gonna shower, but I kinda have a small problem…”

“Problem?” Lena arches her sharp brow.

“I-I need help,” Kara swallows. “I only have the one sling, and I don’t want to get it wet before we travel home, so I have to use my good arm to hold up my bad arm, so it doesn’t hurt too bad, which means I—“

“—can’t exactly wash yourself off,” Lena finishes.

“Yeah. And I figured, if someone’s going to help me, it’d either be you or Alex,” Kara swallows. “And I’d rather it be you. Sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” Lena waves a hand, gulping down a clusterfuck of emotions. “I can help. It’s hardly the first time we’ve showered together.”

But this is very different and they both know that.

“Thanks,” Kara says, fork already laden with the pasta Lena had ordered for her.

“I’ve never seen you in glasses before,” Lena comments, crossing her arms and leaning her back against the kitchenette counter, only about a foot away from Kara, who’s wolfing down her snack with a vigor unparalleled. “I actually thought you were a stranger at my door at first.”

“Do I really look that different in them?” Kara asks.

“Not really, I suppose,” Lena answers. “Not after a good look.”

“I can’t believe a simple pair of glasses is all it takes to humble the genius Lena Luthor,” Kara teases. 

“I am not humbled,” Lena objects. “And it was a second of confusion, at best. Your ego is still insufferably recognizable.”

“You know, you comment on my ego a lot,” Kara notes. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you might actually find arrogance a little attractive.”

(Maybe she does — but only with Kara’s unique brand of wholesome delivery to counterbalance it. Arrogance is certainly not a trait she enjoys on anyone else, though.)

“Do you?” Lena challenges. “Know any better, Danvers?”

“Oh, sure, use my own words against me,” Kara shakes her head. “That’s just rude, Lena.”

“Well, darling, you seem to like that sometimes,” Lena gives a coy smirk.

Kara’s eyes narrow in objection but the pink blush across her cheeks betrays her.

“So how long have you worn those for?” Lena asks, staring intently at Kara’s glasses.

Kara pushes the bridge up her nose again. “I got them a little after I started living with the Danvers.”

“I can’t believe I’ve never seen them until now,” Lena says. “Though I should’ve figured, seeing as how you have contact solution at your apartment.”

“Yeah, I don’t really like to wear them that much anymore,” Kara offers. “Not since I got contacts.”

“Why did you make the switch?” Lena asks.

“I realized rec specs weren’t going to help me get laid,” Kara half-heartedly jokes. “Nah, I usually just played without the glasses, but turns out I shoot better when I can see.”

They both see it for the cover it is; Kara doesn’t wear the glasses to class either. 

“And that’s the only reason?” Lena asks.

“No, I … felt like I outgrew them, I guess,” Kara shrugs. She touches the bridge once more. “After my parents and all, throughout middle and high school, they were easy to hide behind. But the summer before coming to NCU, I wanted to try contacts for basketball. Then I got here, there was all the Supergirl-stuff, I got more confident off the court too, and I haven’t looked back since.”

Lena nods in understanding. “What’s the reason for tonight’s revival?”

“Ah, Alex,” Kara says. “She made me take out my contacts before my arm got too stiff to use, which was a good call. But I kinda needed to see to get here, so …”

“Hmm,” Lena hums. “I can see how being down an arm would make that process difficult. You know, Luthor Corp has a small device in development for amputees, to allow them to insert contacts more easily with only one hand. I could talk to Lex about sending over a prototype.”

“Oh, you don’t have to,” Kara says. “I’m fine in the glasses.”

“Are you sure?” Lena cocks a brow. “If you change your mind, let me know. It’s no trouble.”

“I will,” Kara promises. “Thank you for the food by the way; it’s delicious.”

“Only the best for Supergirl, our _national champion_ ,” Lena teases.

Kara stands up a little straighter. “Call me that again and I’m not going to be able to finish the meal you so nicely bought me.”

“Is that right?” Lena meets her hungry gaze with a sly smile. “You’re feeling up to it?”

“Yes and no,” Kara answers. “I’m exhausted and down an arm, obviously, so I’m not sure how active I can be, but that does sound like a very fun way to celebrate.”

“Celebrate, huh? Well, that could be arranged, if you decide you still want it later,” Lena offers. “But first, finish your food and let's get you cleaned off.”

Kara nods and eats a little faster.

“Kal won his game tonight too,” Kara informs Lena. “So the El’s are two-for-two.”

“While I’m happy to hear that, I think your victory holds a little more significance,” Lena smiles. “Have you talked to him?”

“Funny, he said the same thing,” Kara’s lips twist upwards. “And yup; he called to congratulate me and see how I was feeling. But that’s it.”

“How _are_ you feeling?” Lena echoes, a suspicious inkling to her words. ‘But that’s it?’

“Sore,” Kara then shoves a massive bite into her mouth, preventing her from having to answer anything further.

“Mm-hm,” Lena’s eyes narrow. “I bet.”

Kara stares a little too intensely at the remains of her dish.

“Kara,” Lena states. There’s something more here. “What _else_ did you two talk about?”

“Oh, not too much,” Kara’s voice goes up an octave. “I might’ve … gotten really excited and told him about us?”

Lena holds her breath.

“He’s very happy for us,” Kara informs her, voice back to it’s deeper, calming pitch. “He likes you. And I explained everything about that dinner with Lex.”

“Ah,” Lena swallows. That’s it? Why is it always so fucking easy with Kara’s people?

“You know, none of your family has put up any real resistance to you dating a Luthor,” Lena says instead, burrowing her nerves. “I’m starting to suspect you only consort with hopeless optimists. Or gold-diggers.”

Kara’s face falls into something incredibly serious.

“Lena, you know I don’t care about your money, right?” Kara says, painfully genuine. “Like at all. I’d still want to be with you if you were broke tomorrow.”

“I know,” Lena chuckles. She actually does believe it. “Besides, if anything, you’re here for the sex.”

“While that is a _very nice_ benefit,” Kara swears. “That’s also not the main reason I’m into you. I like the person you are above everything else, Lena.”

A brief tingle runs down Lena’s spine at the earnestness of Kara’s words.

“Still, at least someone you know should put up a little resistance to us dating, or I’ll be disappointed,” Lena jokes. “After keeping things secret for so long, it would be too anti-climatic.”

“Be careful what you wish for,” Kara chuckles. “You haven’t officially met all my friends yet.”

Lena stiffens a little; that’s a valid point, and a new, terrifying reality she had yet to fully process until this very moment.

“Kara, Lucy saw us together,” Lena blurts out. “After the game.”

“Oh, _I know!”_ Kara says emphatically. “She and Nia interrogated me the _instant_ Alex and I got back to our hotel. And Winn’s been blowing up my phone all night. They all want to meet you as soon as they can.”

Lena clenches her jaw to keep a groan from escaping. This was inevitable if she stayed with Kara, she knew that, but she had repressed any consideration of it with an ardor that would probably concern a mental health professional.

“I’m sorry, Lena.”

Kara’s soft words jolt Lena from her pool of dread and anxiety.

“What?” Lena’s brow furrows.

“I’m sorry for kissing you after the game,” Kara continues. “I know you wanted to keep things quiet, I just—I got so excited and I wasn’t thinking.”

She’s looking over at Lena like a kicked puppy dog and Lena can’t have that.

“Kara,” Lena says slowly. “It’s alright. I just—before you started to associate yourself with me, I wanted you to have time to be certain that’s what you wanted.”

“The Luthor name doesn’t deserve you, Lena, and I’m not going to silently reinforce that it does. I’m proud to be with _you_ , Lena. So are we good?” Kara asks, steel-forged hope in her eyes.

“We’re good,” Lena nods. “Though, if I’m going to meet your friends now, I suppose I should apologize for saying I hated them all those months ago. It might’ve been a bit of an over-exaggeration.”

“It’s okay,” Kara smiles. “We can be loud and annoying sometimes; I get it. But I love them very much and that usually wins out. This is important to me, but I know it might be a lot for you, so I’ll figure out a good time to meet up in a way that’s not too overwhelming.”

“Thank you,” Lena’s voice is softened as she resists the urge to overthink.

As if Kara knows exactly what’s going on, she stands tall to wrap one arm around Lena’s waist from behind, pulling them together, and offers, “Don’t worry, they’ll love you. Just be Lena. Don’t overthink it. It’ll be okay.”

Lena takes a deep breath and leans into the embrace, accepting Kara’s words at the same time. “If you’re finished eating, darling, I think you know what comes next.”

Kara hums and presses a kiss to the side of Lena’s head, then her cheek, and her jawline, before moving down to her neck. Meanwhile, Kara’s hand moves back across Lena’s stomach and begins to wrap down her hip.

“That’s not what I meant.”

Never in a million years would Lena have guessed the words that would leave Kara’s mouth next.

“Mmm, she be too thick,” Kara mumbles into Lena’s neck, one hand squeezing the bottom of her ass.

“What?” Lena scoffs, blinking in confusion. Did Kara really just say that?

“What?” Kara echoes, sounding way too innocent to be believable.

So she did. _This is why you don’t get into bed with a fuckboy, Luthor,_ Lena realizes. _This ludicrous shit is exactly why._

“If you’re going to try and blame this on the lidocaine, I don’t think that’s one of the side effects,” Lena informs her, ignoring Kara and her adventurous hand.

“Nah, I know,” Kara smiles again, pulling back up. “You just always make that indignant face and it’s so cute.”

“I do not make a face,” Lena objects.

“Yes, you do,” Kara chuckles. “You squint your eyes and you pout. It’s _adorable_.”

Lena puts on her best bitch-face and points towards the bedroom. “Go.”

Kara winks and takes off with Lena following up behind. They come to a stop in the bedroom, near the entrance into the bathroom.

“You know, you’re kinda short,” Kara says, her nose wrinkling as she smirks at Lena.

Lena gives her an indignant look. “I am not short, Kara! Forgive me for not wearing heels in the comfort of my own room. You're just tall and insufferable.”

“And you’re just short,” Kara continues. “So short and cute.”

“Oh my god. Do you want my help or not?” Lena threatens, but it’s all in good humor.

“I do,” Kara chuckles, shrugging off the jacket thrown over her shoulders. It hits the floor with a heavier thud than Lena would’ve expected. “Well, that’s about as far as I can get on my own.”

“I think I can help with the rest,” Lena says. “Ready?”

“Have your way with me, Lena Luthor,” Kara teases, a sweet yet cocky smile across her face.

Lena looks up at Kara through flirty, hooded eyes. “Don’t tempt me, Danvers.”

“Maybe that’s the point.”

“Are you familiar with the term ‘behave’?” Lena asks. “Because I wonder sometimes.”

“Well, you did tell Maggie I wasn’t housetrained,” Kara pouts. “It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy.”

“Mmm, indeed,” Lena hums. She gestures up to Kara’s glasses. “These first. May I?”

“Yeah,” Kara exhales, suddenly sounding a bit breathless in Lena’s close proximity.

Lena reaches up and gently but firmly grabs Kara’s glasses by the hinges, then slowly pulls them from her face. They hold eye contact the entire time — steel blue tamed by mossy green — even long after the glasses are gone.

Lena blinks and the spell she’s casted over Kara seems to break.

“Sling next,” Kara declares. “I’ve got this one.”

She pulls the strap over her head, down her left shoulder, then peels it off her arm towards her hand — it seems to go smoothly enough; there’s no grunting or significant grimacing. With the sling gone, Kara’s uniform is fully revealed in the crisp light of Lena’s room. 

In the intimate solace of her suite, it feels like the closest she’s ever been to Kara like this — dressed to be Supergirl — and Lena can’t help but inspect the unknown. 

The jersey fabric is softer than she would’ve expected, definitely with some sort of moisture-wicking capacity, yet there’s a fair amount of stretch and breathability too. The bright white material makes Kara’s skin look eternally tan. Sky blue accents around the collar and down the sides make the uniform seem sleek and streamlined. Across Kara’s chest, in black lettering, is ‘Comets’ and below that is her number, sky blue ringed in black. 

Lena can’t quite explain it, but Kara always seems to wear the number with a weight deeper than pride. A hopeful gravity. Before she can process the movement of her fingers, Lena’s lightly tracing over the ‘11’ on Kara’s chest.

“It’s for them, you know,” Kara whispers. “For my parents.”

Kara’s good hand catches Lena’s wrist right as she stops tracing, and she holds Lena’s hand up so her palm is pressed firmly over Kara’s heart.

“I chose eleven because of my last name,” Kara explains, looking at her with an intensity that burns. “Eleven for _El_. But also because there’s two ‘1’s’; one for my mom and one for my dad. Then they’re always with me.”

It’s such a simple yet profound gesture and Lena can’t believe she’s never made the connection before. Of course the number, Kara’s sigil, has meaning.

“That’s a beautiful sentiment,” Lena murmurs, looking up to gaze at Kara.

“I’d say I’ve seen more beautiful …” Kara tells her, the intense look in her eyes leaving no ambiguity to the meaning of her words. “… but there’s no word I know that does you justice, Lena.”

“You’re edging dangerously close to cliché, Danvers,” Lena teases her to mask the fluttering in her stomach.

“It’s still true,” Kara states.

They need to get back on track, and it has nothing to do with the fact Kara’s looking at Lena with an utter devotion that makes her question if she deserves even a drop of it.

“Are you ready for this to come off?” Lena asks, pulling on the hem of Kara’s jersey. It’s half-untucked already and Lena quickly pulls it out the rest of the way.

“Yeah,” Kara nods. She takes a deep, bracing inhale and drops her right arm away.

Lena tries to work quickly but precisely. She starts by rolling the bottom hem upwards, until it’s about halfway up Kara’s torso, at which point the blonde slips her right arm underneath and pushes the fabric out from her left side. 

The armhole catches on her left elbow and Kara makes a painful grunt.

Lena’s fingers still. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Kara pants, face contorted in pain. “J-just pull it up over my shoulder. The fabric should stretch some.”

“Sorry,” Lena gulps preemptively, doubting the fabric is _that_ pliant, then does as she asks.

Kara hisses in pain and squeezes her eyes shut. Lena feels a twang of guilt; she’s helping Kara, but she’s still hurting her too, and Lena hates that inevitability.

Kara’s able to pull the rest of the jersey off with her good arm, jaw clenched tight. Her agony is clear. But thankfully she regroups once she begins to cradle her left arm in her right again. 

“There’s got to be a better way to do that,” Kara groans, chest heaving after the effort.

Lena’s positive there is; she’ll have to do some research before Kara dresses in the morning. That’ll be equally if not more of a challenge, Lena reasons.

But one problem at a time.

Thankfully, Kara’s shorts are almost effortless to remove. Her leggings underneath are less so.

“Do you still feel wobbly?” Lena asks, eyes darting between Kara and the sitting chair nearby.

“Not really,” Kara replies.

Lena hums. “Regardless, I think it’ll be easier to take these off if you’re sitting down.” She gives Kara’s waistband a tug over to the chair.

“Trying to get into my pants, Luthor?” Kara asks, plopping down onto the seat. 

“Can you blame me?’ Lena asks coyly. She shoots Kara a sly look and slides the leggings down, the backs of her fingers trailing languidly along Kara’s freshly bare legs.

Kara lets out a deep exhale.

“Did that hurt you?” Lena asks. She can feel concern etch into her face in an instant.

“Not exactly,” Kara squeaks. Suddenly, her pink cheeks make a lot more sense.

“I’d tell you to keep it in your pants…” Lena teases, stripping Kara’s socks off her shins next. “… but I think that’s a bit of a moot point now.”

“Well, you are on your knees for me,” she jokes, but it’s softened by breathless awe. Kara’s in nothing but her underwear now, yet Lena’s the one who feels stripped naked.

“Stand for me,” Lena requests.

Bad idea.

It’s a sight that goes straight to Lena’s throbbing clit.

Lena’s no stranger to abstract power, nor Kara’s nakedness, but seeing the blonde’s body is always a shocking reminder that power can be physical too. She’s _strong_. And at this particular moment, Lena’s eye-level with Kara’s abs and it has her feeling some sort of way. 

Kara’s skin is pulled taut over strong, rippling muscles; there’s a dense vertical stripe of flesh on either side of her torso’s midline, as well as thick cords wrapping over the curves of her hip bones, which all flow together into an almost-perfect arrow shape, pointing south under Kara’s boxers.

For whatever primal, dumb reason, Lena’s predominant thought is to _lick_.

_But that is absolutely_ **_not_ ** _what they’re doing right now,_ Lena reminds herself, standing up on traitorous legs. _Get it together, Luthor._

She’s not the only one struggling. Kara’s frozen in a trance, eyes glued to Lena, barely breathing.

For a split-second, the odds of them showering anytime in the next hour dwindles unfavorably. But no, the shower is the priority. Kara needs help. (And smell might be a minor factor, too).

As Lena’s eyes drift north in a desperate attempt to behave, she realizes there’s about to be a problem: Kara’s incredibly tight, compression sports bra. 

“Uh, Kara,” Lena frowns, slipping the barest tip of her finger under the bottom elastic band. “How are we going to get this off of you? I can try to pull it up, but there’s no way I can do that without hurting you.”

“Hm? Oh!” Kara awakens from her trance and begins to pout. “Yeah, we’re not gonna be able to pull it off. The docs said we have to cut it. It’s my favorite one too.”

“Cut it?” Lena frowns. She doesn’t exactly have anything sharp enough to sever multiple layers of spandex.

“Unless you think you’re horny enough to rip it off me,” Kara winks, a tired but flirty smile across her face. “There’s scissors in my jacket pocket. I borrowed them from the med kit.”

“Borrowed?” Lena asks, picking up Kara’s jacket from the floor. Sure enough, there’s a pair of medical tape scissors in one of the pockets. Lena brandishes the scissors in the air like a toy. “Or stole?”

Kara’s pout is immediate. “I didn’t steal them! I’m gonna put them back tomorrow.”

“Mm-hm,” Lena hums her teasing disbelief, walking around to Kara’s back.

“Beside, they’re _team_ scissors,” Kara mumbles over her shoulder. “And I’m part of the team.”

“Sure.”

Kara takes a sharp inhale as Lena slides one of the blades up under the bottom elastic.

Lena freezes all motion. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Kara nods. “They’re just cold.”

“Oh,” Lena’s muscles relax again, and she begins to carefully gnaw through the hardy fabric with the jaws of the scissors. “Sorry, darling.”

Kara yawns. “…‘t’s all good. Thanks for helping me.”

“Of course,” Lena says. “I’m flattered you’d rather I bathe you than your sister.”

“Kinda a low bar, don’t you think?” Kara jokes. “But yeah, that’s an easy choice.”

“There,” Lena declares, the last of the straps severed. Kara should be able to remove it cleanly without needing to move her arm. “Pull it from the front.”

Kara follows the instructions, and with that, her back is laid fully bare before Lena’s eyes.

Well, fuck.

Lena goes a little weak in the knees.

There’s soft pink compression lines everywhere but they do absolutely nothing to distract from a frankly unfair expanse of rippling muscles. Kara’s left shoulder is certainly swollen and lacks definition in comparison to her right, which is momentarily fascinating to Lena’s inner scientist before she moves on. Diagonal cuts run under Kara’s shoulder blades, drawing Lena’s eye further south, to the two hollow dimples at the base of Kara’s spine. They practically call out for Lena’s touch.

This time, she obliges her baser impulse.

Oh, to dig her nails into such powerful, steely flesh, scraping and spurring—

“Lena?” Kara calls, stilling under her touch. It’s soft and tender and it stirs Lena from her amorous thoughts.

“Come on,” Lena says, running her hand up Kara’s spine to wrap over her good shoulder. “Let’s get you washed up.”

“Why?” Kara shoots her a cocky grin. “Trying to get me wet, Luthor?”

“Something tells me that you already are,” Lena challenges.

“Want to check?”

“No,” Lena lies, biting her lower lip. “Waiting a few hours to shower hasn’t done you any favors, darling.”

“Rude.” Kara’s pout only lasts the few seconds it takes to reach the bathroom, at which point awe takes over. She slowly spins around to capture every obnoxious slab of marble, cliché golden accent, and overpriced lighting fixture.

“This is one of the _nicest_ bathrooms I’ve ever been in,” Kara gawks. “Lena, there’s three showerheads. Three!”

Lena chuckles. “You know, I think I’m a little offended that _this_ outranks the one in my apartment. It might be bigger but it lacks character.”

“Oh, yours has always been my favorite,” Kara confesses. “Ever since Lex’s party. The first time I saw it, I distinctly remember thinking: ‘I could have the best shower of my life in here’.”

“Seriously?” Lena asks.

“Yup,” Kara smiles. “I’ve always wanted to try your shower really bad, but I didn’t want to overstep.”

“Well,” Lena hums. “When we get back to National City, I think I can fix that for you.”

“I’d like that,” Kara smiles, voice dropping down to a whisper. “Oh, this is _so_ much better than showering at the hotel.” 

“Come on, you can marvel more later,” Lena says. “I’ll step out for a minute while you get settled; call me when you’re ready for me.”

“I’m always ready for you,” Kara replies. “But yeah, I do have to pee.”

Kara calls for Lena right as the latter is removing the last of her own clothing, leaving them equally bare.

There’s a quick glimpse of golden skin in the middle of the shower and Lena finds herself maintaining incredibly strict eye contact. She doesn’t know why. She’s been ogling Kara this entire time, but there’s something different about seeing her like this.

Kara’s shoulders are hunched a bit against the chilled air, and her right arm is cradling her left. Her hair, pulled from its ponytail, looks more like a wild mane than the sleek waves Lena’s used to. When she turns to look at Lena, her eyes look bright as always but there’s both a physical and emotional fatigue to them.

She looks so vulnerable and Lena feels very out of her depth. 

Lena doesn’t know how to care for someone like this. Luthors don’t do loving touches. The closest she’s ever come before this is dabbing Kara’s bloody head wound in the bathroom of the Danvers’ apartment.

The moment Kara had fallen for her.

Lena can’t even imagine what emotional cataclysm is in store this time. 

“So how does this work?” Kara asks, breaking Lena from her trance.

“Hmm?”

“The shower,” Kara points at the control panel on the wall. “I can’t tell what knob controls which showerhead.”

“Oh, I can help with that,” Lena exhales, relieved to have a tangible focus.

Kara requests Lena to turn on all three showerheads — she obliges — and suddenly they’re being sprayed with warm water on all sides.

“This is amazing!” Kara exclaims. “It’s like a car wash!”

Lena chuckles as she swipes her now-damp hair back. “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”

“That I am. Not that I wouldn’t be having fun on my own, but it’s significantly better with you naked in the shower with me,” Kara grins. It falls abruptly into a clenched jaw when she releases her left arm to comb back her own damp hair.

“Stop,” Lena orders. “Let me. You just hold your arm.”

Kara returns to cradling her injured arm and the relief across her face is immediate. “Lena, are you sure? I can still use—”

“—I’m sure,” Lena states. “Allow me?” She gestures up to Kara’s hair.

Kara nods her consent; Lena steps forward. She places one hand on each side of Kara’s head and threads the hair back, allowing the water to run deeper into it. Lena chooses to concentrate intensely (perhaps a bit too much so) on getting Kara’s hair thoroughly wet, in favor of making painfully raw eye contact with the blue eyes that are trained lovingly on her face.

Lena’s breaths are beyond shallow by the time Kara’s hair is fully soaked.

“Shampoo,” Lena rasps out an explanation as she steps away to grab the bottle. She might be able to breathe a little better over here, but admittedly, she misses the soft asphyxiation of intimacy that comes with Kara’s presence.

She goes back without hesitation, standing behind Kara this time. It’s safer back here, even with eyelids now covering those adoring eyes, as Kara relaxes fully under Lena’s ministrations.

The shampoo is quickly worked into a bubbly lather and spread throughout thick blonde hair. Lena’s nimble fingers work it in deeper with a methodical ease.

“Lena,” Kara says softly. “I think I love you.”

“Yes, darling,” Lena hums, her fingers scratching shampoo down to Kara’s scalp. “I believe you’ve mentioned that before.”

“No, like …” Lena can feel Kara frown. “Like _I love you_ . Like there’s something here to _build_.”

Lena’s fingers freeze for a microsecond, but she deftly recovers. Her heartbeat pounds loudly in her ears but she’s desperate to hear Kara’s next words.

“I know love is a lot of work, and it’s not always this fantasy thing …” Kara rambles, leaning into Lena’s touch. “… but how I feel about you, it makes me wanna try for it. To keep working for it. I don’t wanna mess this up.”

Lena takes a step back. She can’t bear to be this close to Kara anymore, to have the blonde so soft and vulnerable under her fingertips. Kara’s words fall heavy around her shoulders and for a second she thinks she might collapse under them. 

It’s a split second of reversion, one she imagines will haunt her again, and she falls into doubts if she’s even worthy of those words. Of Kara. Of hope. 

“Lena?” Kara asks softly, her head turning over her shoulder to try and get a glimpse of Lena. “Are you okay? I didn’t mean to scare you …”

“You didn’t,” Lena gasps. 

“Talk to me.”

Before she really processes what’s going on, Lena’s walked around to face Kara, frightened green meeting strong blue.

“It’s just … Luthors corrupt everything they touch, Kara …” Lena confesses. “What if I ruin you?”

“If you ruin me, it’ll only be because I let you,” Kara smiles softly. “But you’re not going to ruin me. You don’t see how the light falls on you, but I do. You’re good, Lena, you’re so good.”

Should death ever be soft and kind, Lena knows it’ll be accompanied by the sound of Kara's voice praising her in _that way_ , that way that makes Lena actually start to believe it.

Kara Danvers has somehow stolen Lena’s heart and she can’t exactly pinpoint where or when or how, but the end result is undeniable: Lena doesn’t want to be on her own anymore.

It’s new and terrifying.

“… and if you ruin me?” Lena whispers.

“I can’t ruin you, Lena,” Kara promises. “No one can. I’m just telling you what's already there.”

It’s love.

Lena’s lips tremble. “What … _what_ did I do to deserve you?”

“You kissed me in a shitty dive bar,” Kara chuckles, eyes drooping closed a little. “ _You_ kissed _me_ , so really … this is all your fault. I’m just holding you accountable for your own actions.”

“I …” Lena trails off, marveling at the woman in front of her. “I … suppose that’s true. Keeping me in line, Danvers?”

“It’s what heroes do,” Kara smiles, eyes almost fully closed.

“My hero,” Lena says. 

She takes Kara’s face in her hands and gently brings them together for a kiss. Ever receptive to physical touch, Kara closes the gap between their bodies, her arms pressing awkwardly but yet not unwelcome into Lena’s torso.

“Come on,” Lena says, pulling away when it becomes clear Kara has zero intention of doing so first. “We have a shower to finish.”

Lena rinses the shampoo from Kara’s hair, shielding the blonde’s eyes with one hand so the soap doesn’t run down into them. She then lathers Kara’s body up with some of her body wash and gets to work helping the blonde rinse off all the sweat and gym grime from the day’s events. Kara holds still the entire time, taking shallow breaths, as if she’s afraid to move.

Lena notices.

“Are you alright?” Her brow furrows as she continues her work, albeit a bit more hesitant now. 

“Yeah,” Kara says. “I just … this feels really nice. I can’t remember the last time someone washed me, other than myself, of course.”

Lena hums along and resumes her work at her previous pace. 

“I think it would’ve been my mom,” Kara adds, voice sounding a bit lost in thought. “After I sprained my arm as a kid. Same shoulder, ironically.”

Lena’s hand slows in its path over Kara’s back. 

(Every inch of Kara’s body has already been scrubbed spotless by now — with careful, ginger care given to her left shoulder — but Lena felt it necessary to clean her back one more time. To be thorough, of course. But that’s all pushed to the wayside with Kara’s next question.)

“What about you?”

Lena can’t remember. Is there even a moment to remember?

Inevitably, yes. It would’ve been back when she was still a young child, and it would’ve been with one of the Luthor family caretakers — the ones Lillian habitually fired every six months to prevent her children from getting too attached. 

An old heartache pangs in Lena's chest, then fades as fast as it came.

“I’m not sure,” Lena answers. “I was likely too young to remember.”

“That’s sad, I think,” Kara says softly. Her tone isn’t judgmental or morose, just a bit wistful. “This feels so nice.”

Lena’s sure it does.

Kara is silent for a long moment. “Lena?”

“Yes?”

“When my shoulder heals, can I do this for you?” Kara asks. “I want you to experience what this feels like.”

Kara bathing her? Kara touching her? Not touching for the sake of sex or possession, but for selfless care and comfort? A physical manifestation of the intimate connection of two lovers' souls?

Oh, boy. She should say no. A hard no. And yet …

“… okay,” Lena agrees, in a small voice that’s not her own. “If you want to.”

“I do.” The conviction in Kara’s tone is stronger than steel.

Lena clears her throat in an attempt to introduce a sensation other than the swelling of her heart. “Rinse off for me.”

Kara hops back into the thickest stream of water while Lena takes a moment to lather up herself.

“I smell like you now, kinda,” Kara muses, resurfacing free of suds.

“Is that a bad thing?” Lena asks, a sliver of doubt in her words. She and Kara switch positions.

“Not at all,” Kara’s assurance is firm and unquestionable. “I love it.”

“Oh,” Lena exhales. “I’m glad.”

After Lena rinses her face and opens her eyes, Kara’s staring at her again, but this time, there’s no eye contact. No, this time Kara’s eyes are locked onto a place a bit … lower.

Lena ignores it for the sake of finishing their shower. But she’s only human, and afterwards as she combs Kara’s hair out, she may or may not play up into the little touches she knows will drive Kara wild — her fingertips brushing Kara’s temples, a hand under her jaw, the steady pressure of her breasts against Kara’s back.

It works. She’s just finishing combing out her own hair when Kara starts sucking on her neck from behind, hard enough to mark.

A slight gasp slips from her lips; it only spurs Kara onwards. Her free hand slips from its iron grip on Lena’s hip to down between her thighs.

“Lena,” Kara sighs desperately, feeling the dampness that lies between Lena’s legs. “Babe …”

“Kara,” she greets, in a tone that’s intentionally infuriatingly neutral. She doesn’t want to play her hand yet.

“You’re so beautiful,” Kara whispers. Her hand starts to move in the soft circles that Lena loves and Lena’s legs spread a bit wider on instinct.

“Someone wants to — _ah_ — celebrate,” Lena chuckles, ignoring the hitch in her breath as Kara’s finger comes to rest idly over her entrance.

“I want to celebrate,” Kara agrees. “With you. If you still want to. I don't know how much I can do, but—”

“You don’t need to do anything, darling,” Lena coos. “I’m going to take care of you, Kara.”

Lena pulls her over to the bed, not giving a single fuck about how wet the sheets might get. That's not the wetness she’s prioritized.

“Lean your back up against the headboard,” Lena instructs. She then crawls over top of Kara’s legs, straddling her lap, and pulls her in for the first of many deep, rolling kisses.

“Relax, Kara,” Lena requests. “Let me do this for you.” Her lips shift down to the curve of Kara’s neck, right over a strong tendon, and she sucks the skin between her teeth, _hard_.

“Lena!” Kara gasps. “Oh, that’s gonna leave a mark.”

“That’s the idea, darling,” Lena smirks. “Though if you’d prefer I put my mouth somewhere else, I’m happy to oblige …”

“Uh, yeah, yes please,” Kara murmurs.

“You’re a national champion, Kara,” Lena purrs, kissing and sucking her way down Kara’s chest, over those tantalizing abs that test every ounce of Lena’s willpower, and down, down, lower and lower. “You deserve to feel like it.”

“I’m … I’m a national champion,” Kara echoes, using up the last remaining air in her lungs.

“You did it,” Lena whispers. Her breath ghosts against Kara’s core and the blonde shivers underneath her.

“I did it,” Kara murmurs. “I’m a—oh, fuck!”

Let it never be said that Lena Luthor is anything less than _powerful._

Lena takes her time with Kara, enjoying every moment of turbulent contact, feeling more vibrant and alive with every flare of Kara’s body under her touch.

“I want you,” Kara pleads, sounding terribly close. “I want to hold you when I …”

Lena pulls away with a smirk saturated by love. “I have an idea. Let me ride you.”

“Ride me?” Kara looks dangerously close to a heart attack.

“Your hand,” Lena elaborates, already getting into position. “Then you can feel me, hold me, _watch me_ — whatever you’d like, darling.”

She’s never seen Kara snap to attention so quickly.

“Two?”

“At first, then three.”

Lena bounces up and down over Kara’s lap, slow and deep, with Kara’s fingers curling inside her in the best way. One of Lena's hands braces herself over Kara’s steel core, while the other reaches behind her back to touch Kara. 

Kara’s eyes rake over Lena’s form the entire time, moving fast and then slow, as if she’s trying to commit the entire picture to memory but doesn’t know where to start. An endless stream of praise and compliments flows from Kara’s lips like a river, and Lena allows it to soak her.

“Lena,” Kara begs. Her pupils are blown wide and riveted on Lena’s face.

“I’ve got you,” Lena promises.

“I’ve got you too,” Kara swears, and Lena can’t help but suck on her lips, shocked yet not surprised that even now, Kara is determined to look out for her too.

The look in Kara’s eyes is clear: _I love you._

If Lena thought their sex was incredible when they first started sleeping together, this is consummately world-breaking.

They wash up together afterwards.

It quickly becomes a frustrating process for Kara, who has yet to adjust to being down an arm. Lena has to help her put toothpaste on one of the spare toothbrushes so Kara doesn't crush the tube in sheer frustration. She also has to help Kara plug her phone into it’s uncooperative charging cable, which would actually be a little funny to abstain and watch instead, if Kara didn’t look dangerously close to smashing the poor device. 

They then crawl into bed and Lena helps Kara cushion her injured arm with a few of the spare pillows, so she can sleep as comfortably as possible through the night. It’s all terribly domestic and un-Luthor-like that for a second Lena feels like a different person.

But she’s not; she can see it reflected in Kara’s eyes right before eyelids close over them for the night.

A silence falls over them, as words are no longer needed. It persists for so long that Lena’s almost certain Kara’s fallen asleep. But not yet, it would seem.

“Lena?” Kara breaks the silence.

“Yes, darling?”

“I know what has to happen,” Kara murmurs. “With my shoulder.”

Lena freezes. “What do you mean?”

“That I have to … the MRI.” There’s a raspy waiver to Kara’s voice, a mixture of sleep and fear. “I … w-will you come?”

“To the MRI?” Lena asks, just to make sure she understands Kara’s sleepy mumbling.

“Yeah,” Kara says. “I just … there’s a phrase my family always used to say: ‘stronger together’. And I feel stronger when you’re with me.”

Lena expects her voice to fail her, yet it rings out as strong as steel. “I’ll be there.”

“Thank you,” Kara yawns. “… I love you.”

“I love you too, Kara.” Lena presses a kiss to the top of Kara’s head. “Now, sleep, Supergirl. I’m with you.”

Kara falls asleep long before Lena does. Her girlfriend looks so soft and peaceful and pure against the moonlit sheets, and Lena can’t help but lean over and press a kiss to Kara’s forehead. It’s just a simple act — an unexpected impulse — but it cements Lena’s heart with such stalwart devotion that she never wants to waiver from the sensation.

Stronger together, indeed.

The blonde’s earlier words resurface in Lena’s mind, bringing a tsunami of emotions along with them. _“How I feel about you, it makes me want to try for it. To keep working for it.”_

Kara loves her. In a way, apparently, that’s deeper than Lena ever realized. In a way Lena never stopped to consider. But it’s always been there, hasn’t it? 

It was there for Kara when she took care of Lena after Lex’s party, when she calmed Lena down during the flight back to National City, and when she told Lena in barely a whisper that she’s not better off alone. It was there for Lena when she decided to learn _basketball_ of all things, when she comforted Kara after her nightmare, and when Lena bolted onto the court today with zero concern for decorum or appearances.

It was always there, a love deeper than the moment that holds it.

Lena knows she’ll never meet someone like Kara Danvers again.

So maybe Kara’s right. Maybe this is something worth putting in the work to keep. Because while Lena’s not sure if she even deserves this kind of grace, yet alone can live in it, maybe she can get there one day, to stand in the sun with Kara — who loves so brightly and fiercely, it’s godlike.

And so with that realization, Lena picks up her phone and begins to search up therapists located in National City, Kara’s heart beating ever so loyal next to her.

* * *


	22. breathe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara gets her MRI, and a reality check.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for your support; you guys are truly incredible. The next update will not be next week, but instead the week after, because life is kicking my ass and I need some time to catch up on writing. (Don't want to sacrifice quality for speed.) Don't worry though -- the ending of this is written, I just have to fill in the remaining scenes in-between. I have one last surprise in the works. Until then, enjoy!
> 
> Any mistakes are mine, forgive them.

* * *

Kara wakes up with a new nickname. 

Lena informs her of it when they wake up. It fills Kara with an immense swell of pride. And speaking of swelling — when did her shoulder get hit by a bus?

“Unhn,” Kara groans, shifting to sit up in Lena’s hotel bed. Her shoulder gives a throbbing complaint as she tries to move it a little. Bad idea.

“Good morning, darling,” comes a chuckle to her right.

Kara rolls her head over to look, blinking the sleep away from her eyes. The sun is just starting to rise, and lying next to her, looking like some otherworldly vision wrapped within the pristine-white sheets, is Lena Luthor. Dark hair cascades all around her face like a halo, and her green eyes sparkle until the gentle stream of light. Pink lips are pulled upwards in a soft smile and Kara wonders what they’ll feel like against her own.

“Hi,” Kara smiles softly. Where did all the air in the room go?

“Hi,” Lena echoes, sitting up on one forearm. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I tried to fly through a bus,” Kara chuckles. “And I lost.”

“That’s a bit ironic,” Lena muses. “Considering your new nickname.”

“New nickname?” Kara asks.

“See for yourself,” Lena smirks, carefully placing her phone in Kara’s right hand for her to squint at.

It’s ‘the Girl of Steel’.

Her new nickname is plastered all over the various college sports newspages. It would seem that by staying in the game to finish out her free-throws, Supergirl’s showing of steel had sparked the delight of the college sports world, and the moniker had caught on with a fervor.

“I kinda like it,” Kara smiles.

“I like it too,” Lena says. “It fits you.”

When Kara inevitably checks later, she’ll find her social media feed to be full of similar praise for the Comets. There’s an absolute deluge of articles to read about the new national champions. Kara’s the subject of about half of them, with Alex, Lucy, Maggie, and M’gann getting their fair share of commendations — and Nia, their integral sixth-man, is rightfully hailed as a part of their victory, along with everyone else on their team too.

The recognition does, admittedly, make her ego a little bigger. But Kara’s favorite headline is and forever will be: ‘NCU Wins! Danvers’ Sisters Combine to Bring it Home’. It’s accompanied by a photo of her and Alex, probably about mid-game, high-fiving with brilliant smiles across both their faces.

Because that’s what it boiled down to: she did it _with Alex_. They did it together. She couldn’t have done it alone … and it’s better that way. It’s not carrying the weight of the world alone.

Oh, if her parents could see her now … Kara would like to think they’d be proud. Like Eliza once said, proud of her basketball accomplishments, sure, but more importantly, of the person she’s learning how to be.

Stronger together.

“What are you thinking about?” Lena’s voice cuts through her thoughts.

“Hmm?” Kara hums instinctively. Lena gestures to Kara’s hand, which is now idly toying with her father's necklace.

“Oh,” Kara chuckles, a wistful smile forming across her face. “Just thinking about the game.”

“About your parents?” Lena guesses. One of her hands comes to rest supportively on Kara’s thigh.

“Yes and no,” Kara responds. “Just family in general. I’m happy it was Alex who won the game. It feels _right_ , to end our time as teammates that way.”

“I’m glad. Alex is a fantastic player and you two make an incredible team,” Lena says. “But, for the record, you’re still my favorite.” She follows up her sentiment with a wink.

“Well, I hope so,” Kara chuckles, sitting up to cradle her bad arm in her lap. “Because you looked really good in my shirt yesterday. Maybe a jersey next time?”

“Absolutely not,” Lena teases. “I have a reputation to protect — I can’t become a basketball fan.”

Kara feigns a mortal wound and flops back down onto the bed; the regret is immediate as her body jars in motion, even against something as soft as the mattress.

“Hghn …” Kara groans from somewhere deep in her throat.

“Hurt yourself?” Lena asks, her face popping over into Kara’s line of vision.

“A little,” Kara admits. “But I’ve had worse.”

“Stop using that as a comparison, I swear …” Lena shakes her head in annoyance, but folds over to kiss Kara all the same.

“So, I’m all over the news,” Kara says. “Are you? Or has the frenzy died down after your mom?”

“There are a few articles, but nothing scandalous,” Lena answers, shifting under the sheets to rest on her belly and forearms, her leg pressed fully up against Kara’s. “We lucked out. It would seem even the photographers were unprepared for you to kiss me. That, or Jack’s giant head ruined the shot.”

“Sorry,” Kara says. And while there’s a piece of her that does wish their kiss had been captured on camera — in conflict with Lena's own preferences — there’s something precious about it being nothing but a memory and a feeling between them.

“Don’t be.”

“Lena?” Kara asks.

“Yes?”

A massive grin breaks out across Kara’s face. “I’m a national champion.”

“Is that right?” Lena’s eyebrow arches playfully.

“Yup,” Kara’s lips twist down into a smirk. “Want to _celebrate?”_

Lena sits up onto her knees, taking the covers with her as they drape down from her bare shoulders and chest like angel wings. Kara swallows roughly and lets her eyes fall downwards.

There’s no reason to try and be polite here.

“ _Celebrate_ , huh?” Lena plays along. “Don’t you need to get back before your parole officer discovers you’re gone?”

“I have plenty of time to get back,” Kara says. “And really, it would be a great distraction from how _terrible_ my shoulder hurts.”

“Well, if it’s a distraction …” Lena drawls, straddling Kara’s body. “I’d say it’s only fair to pay you back for all the times you’ve kept me from my work.”

“Hey! That was like one t—”

Lena silences her in the best way possible.

* * *

Luthors rarely find themselves faced with a problem they can’t solve. 

Usually the family intellect is formidable enough to handle most issues. There are minions to tidy up any auxiliary messes. If it’s more a matter of connection, there is a sprawling network of associates and contacts to recruit. And when all else fails — just throw enough money at the problem, and it suddenly disappears.

Lena’s used to operating with such resources.

In fact, it’s the reason she even finds herself in this situation; headed to the imaging department of the National City Medical Center for Kara’s MRI. 

All it took was one phone call to the head of the hospital, inquiring about their imaging capacity, and the surname _Luthor_ — _yes, as in the Luthors that own this hospital, and eight others around the country_ — and just like that, Kara’s got an appointment first-thing Wednesday morning.

Alex is driving the three of them there in her car, bleary-eyed and scowling when she thinks no one can see, but the loving worry never fades from her eyes. Lena is sitting ramrod-straight next to her, chivalrously prompted by Kara to ride shotgun.

The early-morning fog over National City makes the drive feel oddly serene, even though it’s far from it.

Fatigue hangs in the air; none of them slept particularly well. Last night had turned into a bit of an impromptu-sleepover at the Danvers’ apartment, after Alex had recruited Lena to come help calm Kara. By no large surprise, Kara’s nightmares had come in full force. 

Things already looked rough by the time Lena arrived.

After sinking a few hours into a Star Wars marathon, Kara finally passed out on the couch, snugly wrapped in Lena’s arms. Once Lena had realized, she hadn’t dared move a muscle.

She and Alex had a silent debate between them — mouthing words and making faces in the dim light from the TV — about if they should try and move Kara to the bedroom or not. Ignoring the logistical challenge of moving Kara’s dense, unconscious body, Lena thought it wouldn’t be worth the risk of disturbing her peace. So Lena had accepted her couch-bound fate (RIP to her back health) and fell asleep along with Kara in the middle of the Danvers’ living room.

It, surprisingly, had worked. 

Kara slept fully through the night. The resulting knots in Lena’s back were a small price to pay for that gift. Though, the peace hadn’t been so kind to stick around through the morning, replaced with the tense arrival of the day’s impending doom.

“When’s my next turn?” Alex’s voice cuts through Lena’s internal thoughts.

Lena glances down at the phone in her hand, a GPS app pulled up on it. “Four blocks.”

Alex grunts an acknowledgment.

Lena’s actually grateful to have the tangible focus of navigating them to the medical center. It gives her purpose (and, selfishly, a distraction from the palpable anxiety swirling throughout the vehicle). Over her shoulder, she can see Kara sitting in the backseat, head bobbing along to the music softly emanating from the car speakers.

‘Sitting’ might be a bit of a misnomer, though, as Kara’s shaking almost fast enough to vibrate through the very atoms of the seat.

Lena catches the motion in her peripheral vision. “Kara, are you cold?” she asks. Her hand is already headed for the temperature dial on the dash.

“No, I’m good,” Kara replies. It’s a valiant attempt at nonchalant, but the same tremor seeps into her voice.

Truthfully, the car is already quite warm, so it’s not quite clear at first why she would be shivering so noticeably, but it doesn’t take Lena long to figure it out — Kara is shaking in _fear_.

That’s not fucking good.

“You took the diazepam right?” Lena asks. Alex shoots a look back at her sister via the rear-view mirror.

“Yup,” Kara murmurs, burrowing deeper into her sweatshirt.

“How long ago?” Lena asks.

“Right before we left,” Alex answers automatically.

She and Lena exchange disconcerted glances.

“It just probably hasn’t kicked in yet,” Alex offers.

“Mm-hm,” comes Kara’s non-committal hum.

Lena’s now thoroughly regretting her decision to sit up front; she should be back there with Kara. For fuck’s sake, she has no idea what she’d even be doing if she was back there, but she should be there. Doing _something._ Anything.

For all her power and resources and privilege, _this_ is something beyond Lena’s control.

And it’s breaking her heart.

Luckily, the universe takes pity on them. By the time the car is parked, Kara’s not really shaking anymore, and her general demeanor is slightly less tense. There’s even a faint glaze to her eyes, but they’re still wide with fear.

Alex handles getting Kara checked in at Reception; her insurance information, medical history forms, all of the little domestic things Lena would have no idea where to even start. In the meantime, she and Kara sit in the corner of the waiting room.

Kara is a galaxy away.

“Kara?” Lena calls softly. She grabs one of Kara’s hands in her own.

“Mm-hm?” Kara hums, turning to blink at Lena.

“Where are you?” Lena asks.

“The hospital,” Kara replies, an innocent, pharmaceutically-aided simplicity to her response.

“I meant mentally,” Lena clarifies. “How are you feeling?”

“Oh,” Kara pauses. “… I’m scared.”

“Of the MRI?” Lena asks. “Because I read up on some techniques and I think they might really be able to help you.”

“Yeah. But of the results too,” Kara says softly. “This could hurt my chances to go pro.”

“Kara,” Lena states, summoning up every bit of confidence she’s ever possessed. “You _will_ be a professional basketball player. There’s not a doubt in my mind. Worst case: it’s torn and you need surgery — I’ll make sure you have the best damn surgeon in the country. You’ll do your physical therapy after and you’ll come back even stronger.”

“I still might not get drafted,” Kara gulps. She’s absently staring down at the floor now.

“You will,” Lena insists, sealing it with a firm squeeze of her hand. “Any team foolish enough to pass on the Girl of Steel is not one you’d want to play for. And besides, this is all subjective — there’s a very good chance nothing is torn. So let’s cross that bridge when we get to it, alright?”

“Yeah, okay,” Kara exhales. She gives Lena’s hand a squeeze in return.

Alex rejoins them at that moment. “Okay, you’re all checked in. They should call for you soon.” She sits down on Kara’s other side, sinking back into the chair with her legs spread wide, like she’s settled into being there for a long time to come.

“Did you ask her yet?” Alex asks Kara.

“No,” Kara hums.

“Ask what?” Lena looks over at them, brow narrowed.

Kara’s head slumps forward, turning to face her. “To come with me.”

“Where?”

It’s Alex who answers.

“Into the MRI room. The pre-procedure instructions mentioned she could bring someone back to help her stay calm,” she supplies. Alex and Lena make eye contact behind Kara’s slouched shoulders. “She was supposed to ask you _before_ getting high as a kite, but better late than never.”

“Sorry,” Kara murmurs. “I didn’t … know how to ask.”

“It’s alright,” Lena assures, rubbing a soothing thumb over Kara’s skin. She then looks back at Alex, with a look that clearly reads as _Why me? Shouldn’t it be you?_

Alex shrugs and offers a soft smile. “You’ll be able to help her more than I can. Her brain always seems to break whenever you’re around, and we could use some of that right about now.”

Lena’s not sure if she should be offended or flattered, but she doesn’t have time to dwell on it, as a man in scrubs pops his head into the waiting room and calls out, “Danvers?”

“No metal,” comes Alex’s abrupt warning.

Shit.

Lena immediately begins to remove any problematic items from her person — her phone, her wallet, her earrings — a bit relieved to have spent the night at the Danvers’, as it means she’s not nearly as dressed up as usual.

_A little more warning would’ve been nice, darling,_ Lena groans internally. But it’s really no harm done, and she understands Kara’s got enough to manage right now, Lena’s not about to hold onto her momentary frustration.

At the same time, Kara’s hand moves up to fumble with something behind her neck

“You’re going to be fine,” Alex tells her sister. “All you need is to make it through the first ninety seconds — you can do anything for ninety seconds. Just remember to breathe.”

“Just breathe,” Kara repeats. The fiddling stops and her hand pulls away from her neck, clasping a chain of gold. 

Of course. Lena imagines going without the necklace will do little to help Kara’s state of nervousness. 

As inferred, Kara’s hand shakes a bit as she sets the necklace into Alex’s palm.

“I’ve got it,” Alex nods, quickly placing it around her neck so Kara can see it’s safe and secure.

“Thanks,” Kara exhales, rising up to stand on two shaky legs. She then turns to face Lena.

“I’m with you,” Lena nods, handing Alex her bag with one hand and placing the other on the small of Kara’s back. “Let’s go.”

“Kara Danvers?” the technologist asks them, checking his clipboard.

Kara just glances at Lena, all color drained from her face. Her lips open and close in an attempt to speak, but nothing comes out.

“Yes,” Lena answers, seamlessly sliding into the business-bitch mode she’s been groomed for her whole life. Kara doesn’t relax at all, but her progress towards rigor mortis seems to halt, thawed in Lena’s burning confidence.

“I believe your office should have been forewarned, but Kara is claustrophobic,” Lena states. Her jaw is set in such a way that it practically dares the man to be unprepared. 

Lena’s never been one to name-drop, so perhaps it's just the general anxiety in the air that makes her uncharacteristically tempted to do so right now. _I’m Lena Luthor and you better not fuck this up._

Or perhaps it’s all hinged on the fact it would be for Kara.

Either way, Lena refrains. For now.

“Yep,” the tech nods. “Says here that she was prescribed a low-dose of diazepam to help. Did she take it?”

“Yes,” Lena answers. Kara nods along.

“Good,” the tech smiles. “You’re in good hands. We’ll have you in and out in no time. Now, if you’ll both follow me back; I have a few questions to ask you on the way.”

The three of them weave through the halls of the hospital department, Kara in the middle, a bit like a prisoner in transport, headed deeper into the belly of the beast. Lena tries her best to exclude confidence, hoping it’ll wash over Kara. The tech rattles off a long list of questions, verifying things like: do either of them have any metal in their bodies, did Kara eat anything yet (she did not — much to her chagrin), and if there’s a chance Kara’s pregnant.

On the last question, Kara and Lena exchange an intimate, amused look unique to bedfellows, and it’s a moment of sunlight among the impending darkness.

“No,” Kara all but snorts out. The corners of her mouth threaten to twitch upwards as she turns back forward.

“Great; okay then,” the tech exhales, giving his best attempt at a soothing smile as he gestures at a door. “We’ll ask you both to put on some gowns first, and then we’ll get this done.”

She and Kara exchange looks once more, only this time, Lena’s stomach drops to the floor faster than she’d care to admit.

* * *

Kara is not having a good time.

Not at fucking all.

The light fog that the sedative had created — like a faint, downy blanket over her mind — feels as though it deteriorates the second she sees the MRI machine. She knows, logically, that it’s still there, but then all that serves to remind her is how absolutely terrified she’d be without it right now.

And she’s still pretty fucking terrified.

The mechanical shifting of the patient table into the MRI bore feels like a coffin being lowered, the shoulder restraint might as well be an iron cage, and the big, clunky headphones over her ears feel like a modern-day take on the executioner’s block. The hospital gown she’s wearing covers her in full, yet she feels beyond naked and exposed.

The only consolation is that Lena’s wearing a gown too — a stipulation of being in the room — somehow still looking fresh out of Gucci’s new spring collection, but Kara can’t even muster up the energy to crack a joke about how designer fashions have really gone into some strange territory because she _can’t fucking breathe._

Just breathe, Alex had said. Like it’s so fucking easy. Ninety seconds — if she can just make it through the first ninety seconds, she can make it through the rest, just like most other patients.

But she can’t.

The white light behind her closed eyelids feels a bit like a phantom zone — somewhere between life and death, yet neither.

Even the steady pressure of Lena’s hand around her ankle can’t temper her.

She hates this. 

The first time is a failure; she only makes it a grand 31 seconds. They try to blindfold her for the second attempt, hoping that it’ll reduce the claustrophobic sensation, which it does actually, yet it doesn’t matter because the clanking sound is still there. She makes it 42 seconds that time.

But that’s it.

Because Kara fucking _hates_ this. Because as soon as she slides into that tight, metal tube, she’s somewhere else.

It feels like a different world.

_Can you tell me your name, kiddo?_

There’s no Alex. No Lena.

_What do you remember?_

Kara’s not in National City anymore. 

_You hit your head. You’re in the hospital._

She’s in Krypton, Alaska, in an MRI machine two-thousand miles and nine years away.

_There was a fire._

With flames seared forever into her mind, her head spinning and all but split open, her heart torn out of her chest like rubble amongst the ashes, fear and loss hollowing every bone in her body, as she just lays there alone … so, so horribly alone.

_I’m sorry, Kara, but you were the only survivor._

It feels like a second death.

_They’re gone._

Kara all but crushes the squeeze ball sensor in her hand, a line of communication to the technologist’s booth.

“I can’t do it,” she gasps. “Get me out of here. Get me out! Get me out!”

She doesn’t hear whatever candied platitudes the tech offers her as the bed starts to slide out; all she can focus on is getting the fuck out of this deathtrap. Once she’s clear of the bore, Kara rips free and bolts up into a sitting position, chest heaving with the beginnings of a full-blown panic attack.

“Hey, hey,” Lena calls. She goes to cradle Kara by her shoulders but switches to her face at the last second. 

Her hands are icy cold against Kara’s skin and it’s grounding. “You’re alright. Everything’s okay.”

“No, no it’s not,” Kara gasps. 

Fuck, where did all the air go? Where the fuck is it? 

“I can’t breathe,” Kara chokes out. “I can’t breathe.”

“Look at me,” Lena says, gently tilting Kara’s eyes up to meet hers. “You’re alright. You can breathe; breathe with me. In and out.”

Kara’s not sure how long it takes exactly, but she eventually finds her calm in those tranquil depths of emerald green, pale and ringed with blue in the lighting. 

“Lena, I can’t do this,” Kara pleads. “If it’s torn, then it’s torn and it’ll heal however; I don’t really need to know. I can’t do this.”

“Kara,” Lena says, keeping her voice firm but neutral. “You can do this. Do you want Alex instead?”

“No,” Kara states. “No, I want you, but Lena, I … I can’t do it.” Kara’s final words are nothing more than a whimper as her throat swells and tears pool in her eyes.

“Hey,” Lena’s attention snaps right to the tears. “Talk to me.”

“I can’t, I can’t,” Kara all but cries, chest heaving. “It’s like I’m back there all over again. I keep losing them, again and again, and I—”

Kara’s voice fails her.

“Kara,” Lena’s voice is like steel, strong and cool against Kara’s ears. “You’re in National City now, not Krypton. I’m here, Alex is here. You’re not alone this time. We’re with you — stronger together, right?”

Kara swallows roughly, voice all but vanished yet compelled to respond in turn. “S-stronger together.”

“Can you give me one more attempt?” Lena asks. “I have an idea. Just one more.”

Kara barely feels her head move as she nods.

Just one more. For Lena.

“Here,” a voice says from her side. Begrudgingly, Kara turns away from Lena towards the source, to see the tech holding two tiny paper cups with a soft, sympathetic smile on his face.

“We’re going to try another dose of the same sedative,” he explains, handing Kara the cup with the pill in it first, then the other with water. “They started you off on the low end, but it looks like you need a little more. We can’t do anymore than this though.”

Kara nods grimly and swallows the pill down. Fuck this.

“This isn’t working,” Lena states. Her bluntness strikes the ears of both Kara and the tech with surprise.

The tech gapes at her slightly. “The sedative—”

“—will take at least thirty minutes to reach its peak plasma concentration,” Lena says. “While I’m sure the additional dose will help, it won’t be immediate. What if we try something else in conjunction?”

The tech looks at Lena like he’s never seen a sight akin to her before (which in Kara’s opinion, he certainly never has) and he doesn’t know what to make of her. “Like what?”

Lena stands impossibly taller, aging ten years before Kara’s eyes, and it breaks her heart a little.

“Look, she has trauma distinctly associated with the MRI imaging process; we need to introduce a different stimulus to separate the two events,” Lena says, very matter-of-fact. “So is there any way I could talk to her during the procedure? Back in the booth with you?”

The technologist’s lips part as he goes to respond to her, only for Lena to effortlessly add, “If you’re worried about hospital policy, I’m Lena Luthor.”

The implication is explicit: she’s Lena Luthor, like her family owns this hospital, _Lena Luthor._

The tech’s jaw snaps shut and judging by the look on his face, he’s doing enough mental gymnastics to medal gold in the Olympics. Across his face flashes: _shit, shit, shit, shit, shit._

“Uh …L-Luthor?” he blinks rapidly, throat contracting with a harsh swallow. “That would be … unorthodox. But, you’re—I guess … um … give me one minute?”

Lena gives a succinct nod, the tech exits the room in a hurry, and god if this was any other scenario, Kara would be turned on beyond belief right now. A powerful Lena is a _hot_ Lena. But between the fear and the sedation, Kara feels about as sexual as a graham cracker right now.

“I’m sorry you had to name-drop,” Kara murmurs. “I know you hate it.”

“I’m not,” Lena says plainly. “And if my family didn’t already own this place, I’d call Lex up right now to purchase it.”

Kara doesn’t really know how to respond to that sober, let alone in whatever state she’s in right now.

“Do you really think your idea will work?” Kara asks, looking up at Lena with her signature crinkle on full display.

“I do,” Lena assures. “You need something to distinguish this experience from your previous one. I wasn’t there the first time, but I’m here now.”

“Okay,” Kara exhales. “Let’s try it, one more time. I trust you.”

“Thank you,” Lena nods at her.

The door to the room opens once more and Kara’s instantly on the defensive.

“Lena Luthor!” comes the jovial greeting of a new male voice. 

_Read the room, dude,_ Kara growls to herself.

Lena looks up over Kara’s head. “Mr. Oh,” she greets, a polite smile on her face. “Is there a problem?”

Kara presses a fist into the MRI bed as she twists around to see the newcomer. Standing there is a middle-aged man in a slightly disheveled suit — missing a belt and a watch — grinning at Lena with a familiar expression.

“Not at all, Miss Luthor,” he says, walking over. He sticks his hand out for Lena to shake, then Kara. “Kevin Oh. I’m the CEO here for NC Medical.”

_Oh, Lena summoned the big boss,_ Kara realizes.

Kara shakes his hand. “Kara Danvers.” Her tongue feels a bit heavier in her mouth now.

“So Miss Luthor,” Kevin claps his hands together. “Dave here mentioned you’d like to observe the MRI from the booth. It’s not exactly our typical procedure, but I don’t see any reason why one of the co-owners of our parent company can’t observe the daily happenings at the hospital. With the patient’s consent, of course.”

“She has it,” Kara adds, unsure if that’s what’s being called for, but she’s so ready to expedite this process and get the fuck out of here that she’ll say just about anything.

“Thank you, Mr. Oh, I appreciate it,” Lena says, setting a gentle hand on Kara’s good shoulder. “National City Medical Center is one of our proudest ventures, after all.”

She sounds so much like the highly-groomed businesswoman Kara often forgets she is, a vastly different Lena than the one that had bickered with Alex over the best place to park the car this morning. Kara’s tempted to laugh at it, something, anything, but she can’t quite do it; her brain suddenly feels a bit far away from her body. The sedative fog is growing stronger. 

It makes it all feel a bit like a fever dream.

“Of course,” Kevin smiles. “Our patients' comfort is our absolute number-one priority, and we’re happy to help as we can. Besides, my little girls are big fans of the Comets — congratulations.” He winks at Kara.

Kara musters up her best attempt at a polite smile; he then drops his attention back over to Lena.

“Shall we, Miss Luthor?” he asks, holding out a lanyard with an ‘Observer’ badge on the end. Lena eyes the badge with a curious expression, eyebrow arched expectantly. 

“Just a formality to have you in the booth,” Kevin explains. “Wouldn’t want the boss to break the boss’s rules, right?”

Kara wants to laugh. _The_ _boss_ is actually terrible at following her own rules, but the cognitive dissonance between comparing the love-life of twenty-year-old college student Lena, and the absolute power and privilege of an ageless Lena Luthor is a gap almost too large to fathom.

“Of course,” Lena accepts it with a good-humored smile. She looks back to Kara, the badge clashing oddly against her hospital gown. “Ready?”

Kara musters a thumbs-up as the tech helps her back into position. The lights along the ceiling seem … fuzzier than last time.

“Try to stay as still as possible,” the tech, Dave, requests. “And I’ll have you out of here before you know it.”

_Doubt it_ , Kara thinks.

He replaces the blindfold — a soft towel — and then Kara’s teleported into some dark, endless space.

“I’ll be with you the whole time,” Lena’s disembodied voice promises, further away now.

The last thing Kara hears is the hospital CEO mentioning to Lena how glad he is that she called, and that he’d love to meet up with Lex for lunch next time he’s in town.

It's met with Lena’s pleased but overly-formal laughter. “Well, Mr. Oh—”

Then the headphones slide over Kara’s ears and she’s immediately alone.

She’s alone.

The mechanical slide of the tray into the bore kicks Kara’s heart straight into high-gear.

“Starting the scan,” Dave announces.

Sure enough, the clanking begins.

No, no, no, no.

Kara’s trapped. She’s trapped. She needs to get out … needs to get …

“Lena!” Kara gasps. “Talk to me!”

The time it takes Lena to respond lasts an eternity.

“Kara,” comes Lena’s voice, the auditory personification of a lifeline. “I’m here. What do you want me to talk about?”

“I don’t know! This was your idea!” Kara hisses through a clenched jaw. She’s trying her best to stay still through it all. “I-I’m sorry, um, a book, any book. What are you reading right now?”

“The latest book I’ve been reading is about quantum entanglement,” Lena replies. “As in the advanced quantum physics theory. It would likely be sinfully boring to hear about.”

“Tell me about it,” Kara requests. “Please?”

“You want me to talk to you about quantum entanglement?” Lena repeats.

“Yes,” Kara gasps. 

“Alright, Danvers, you asked for it,” Lena chuckles. “And I fully intend on using big words too.”

“Game on, Luthor,” Kara slurs. “I have … brain cells.” (Her response was actually meant to be much more clever and eloquent than that, but it would seem the sedative had a different plan for her.)

Kara can actually feel Lena’s eyes roll in response, right before she launches into a full-blown explanation of different particles, quantum state, and the definition of independence and entanglement relative to each other.

If she hadn’t been fairly drugged up, Kara actually would’ve relished the challenge of paying attention to Lena’s words — either to learn something new and genuinely interesting, or just to provide some snarky yet well-informed retort at the end. But as it stands, she’s high as fuck right now, so she just lets the melodic lull of Lena’s voice fill her senses.

The metallic clanking fades in favor of the sweet bend Lena applies to some of her vowels, and that level, even tone that does something magical to Kara’s blood pressure.

It works.

Before Kara knows it, she’s being slid forward and the towel is removed, only for her eyes to then be assaulted by the bright lights embedded in the ceiling. But she doesn’t really mind so much. She’s done. It’s just _bright._

“Mhgh,” Kara groans, sitting up to rub at her eyes. Firm hands grab onto her; one on her right deltoid and one on her left forearm. When she can finally see again, Lena’s eyes are trained intensely on her own, full of caution and guarded relief.

“How do you feel?” she asks.

“Sleepy,” Kara mumbles. “Hungry.” Kara’s stomach grumbles right on cue.

“You did it. Come on,” Lena smiles softly. “Let's get you home. You’re certainly in no shape for class.”

“Alex owes me ice cream,” Kara says slowly, “And breakfast.”

Lena chuckles. “Lucky for you, I think that can be arranged.”

“Thank you,” falls from Kara’s lips, and they both know it’s not about the promise of food.

“Anything for you, _Supergirl_ ,” Lena says. 

It’s nothing but genuine this time and Kara falls a little more in love.

* * *

It’s not torn.

There’s no nerve or capillary damage, however, there’s a significant amount of inflammation and swelling. All ligaments and tendons are still present and accounted for, but they’re _not happy_ in the slightest — Kara’s labrum is heavily strained. It’s a bit of a miracle that nothing is actually torn, but Kara’s unique personal anatomy and previous injuries have resulted in her saving grace: a hypermobile shoulder joint. A hypermobility that will certainly only get worse after this.

But at least it’s not torn.

That sentence should be the ultimate relief, but instead it becomes Kara’s rationale to push the limits of her injured shoulder. 

And up until now, Lena’s been blissfully unaware of it. Until Alex texts her, the same day that Kara gets the results back, and now Lena is _very_ aware of it.

**_Alex Danvers:_ ** _Hi. Did you know you’re dating an idiot_

**_Alex Danvers:_ ** _Any chance you can come over to the apartment ASAP_

Dating an idiot? Lena lets out a preemptive sigh; this _cannot_ be good.

_Sure, I’ll be over soon. I’m leaving campus now._

**_Alex Danvers:_ ** _Door’s unlocked. Hurry, before I strangle her_

Lena can hear the angry stomping even down the hall from the Danvers’ apartment.

“And he even revoked my keycard access, Alex!” Kara’s voice howls through the walls.

“He had every right to!” Alex responds. “Your shoulder was dis-lo-ca-ted, Kara! You’re not thinking, _at all_. You dislocate it again and you’re getting surgery. You’re being a fucking id—“

Lena walks into the apartment without preamble.

The sight awaiting her is certainly an interesting one; the Danvers sisters are standing on opposite sides of the room, the dining room table strategically placed as a barrier between them. Alex is looking at Lena with a mixture of relief and exasperation, while Kara’s expression vaguely resembles a destructive pet: surprised and panicked, brazen yet so, so, terribly _guilty_.

It would almost be endearing.

“Who revoked your keycard?” Lena’s voice is deadly calm against the storm.

“Oh, good, Lena’s here,” Alex smirks, crossing her arms. “Want to tell your girlfriend why your keycard got revoked?”

Kara falters. “Uh …”

“What happened?” Lena cocks her head. “Alex texted me that you were upset.”

A small lie, but not untrue.

“Nothing happened,” Kara says. “I went to the gym to give Demos my MRIs, and then I just did some light legs and abs in the weight room.”

“ _Just_ legs and abs?” Alex challenges, as if she can’t believe the words she’s hearing.

“ _Yes,_ Alex,” Kara grumbles. “Just legs and abs, since every day’s leg day now.”

“Nothing else?” Alex prods.

Kara glares a hole into her sister’s face.

“Will one of you please explain?” Lena asks, irritation seeping into her voice.

“J’onn banned Kara from the gym,” Alex offers. Her frustration with her sister is thinly-veiled at best.

“Nah,” Kara scoffs, glancing between her sister and girlfriend, a charming yet obviously fake smile plastered across her face. “I wouldn’t say he _banned_ me. It was just a small misunderstanding.”

“A misunderstanding?” Lena raises her chin in a challenge. “Over what?”

“Yeah, Kara,” Alex lifts her eyebrows. “What misunderstanding?”

Kara seems to realize that there’s no escape. With a great exhale, she informs the floor, “J’onn might’ve walked in on me in the gym … shooting around a little.”

Despite how quietly Kara mumbles it, her words are sharp as steel to Lena’s ears.

“Shooting,” Lena deadpans. “A basketball. Five whole days after dislocating your shoulder?”

“Okay, I know it sounds bad,” Kara frantically assures her, reaching out in front of her with the arm that’s not in a sling. “But it really wasn’t! It was a super-controlled environment, I was standing still, and I was only shooting with my right arm, really.”

“Then why would J’onn ban you?” Lena asks, sounding mildly confused, but it’s just a ruse. She’s no fool. “That seems like a bit of an over-reaction, doesn’t it?”

“Exactly!” Kara insists. “He totally overreacted! He doesn’t trust me to know my limits, but I do! I was barely even using my bad arm, and he—“

Her face falls at the realization of her accidental admission.

“Bull … _shit_ ,” Alex calls out, slowly sauntering closer to them. “You had your arm out of the sling and everything. That’s why J’onn froze her keycard. And she can still get into the building, just not the practice gym.”

_Oh, Kara Danvers, you did_ **_not_** , Lena thinks to herself.

“So you _did_ use your injured arm?” Lena asks Kara.

An eternity passes in silence while they stare at each other.

Kara blinks first. “ … a little.”

Lena’s arched eyebrow could cut through steel like paper.

The apartment goes perfectly silent, like the poignant hush before a funeral service.

“You know what,” Alex says slowly. “I think I’m gonna let Lena take this one for now; I have an exam to study for.”

Lena’s a bit surprised at Alex’s deference to her, but they have a unified front to uphold, so she hides her shock.

“Good luck,” Alex tells Lena, before turning to her sister with a stern glare across her face. “And you? We’re not done, so I suggest listening to your genius girlfriend first, who will be _much_ nicer than I will.”

Kara glances over at Lena like she’s not quite sure that Alex's latter words are accurate.

“Thank you, Alex,” Lena nods, accepting Alex's exit. She’s more than capable of handling this.

The bedroom door shuts behind Alex with a fatal click, leaving Kara and Lena alone in the room, just staring each other down. Kara already has apprehension in her eyes, her shoulders tense. Lena, on the other hand, has her jaw loose and hands clasped together, body passive as she leans back against the kitchen counter.

Lena starts off soft. This is Kara, here — her Kara — who is a gentle, kind soul. Lena tries to embody that same tempered energy that Kara always holds for her as she begins her inquisition, foreign as it might be. 

“Darling, I think I know what’s going on,” Lena sighs.

Kara tenses further. “What do you mean?”

“With sneaking into the gym to play basketball,” Lena says. “This isn’t you. You’re smart, patient, responsible …”

Guilt creeps back into Kara’s frame, slumping her shoulders.

“Even though you don’t need surgery, I imagine this injury still threatens the security of your future in the league some,” Lena continues. “I can understand why you want to act like everything’s normal, but you need to give yourself a chance to heal first. Even the Girl of Steel needs time to recover.”

“Oh,” Kara exhales, cheeks puffing out with the efflux of air. “I—that’s … not it.”

“Well, if that’s not it, then what is it?” Lena crosses her arms.

“It’s nothing,” Kara clenches her jaw. “I was just bored and wanted to shoot around.”

“ _Bored?”_ Lena’s eyebrows lift dangerously high. “Do you forget who my family is, Kara? I know when someone is lying to me — _especially_ you. I thought we were past this. What’s going on with you?”

Kara just stares at Lena, a mask of steely silence.

“Is it something with us?” Lena softens, insecurity blunting the edge of frustration that’s crept into her voice.

“No,” Kara promises. It’s a momentary fault in her armor, but as soon as her lips close, she’s gone as cold as steel again.

“Then what is it? You can tell me,” Lena says, almost a plea.

The closest Lena gets to a response is the brief pulse of a muscle in Kara’s jaw, and a short, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Lena blinks twice, her head ever so slightly tilted to the side.

Did Kara Danvers — the newest poster-girl of ‘let's talk it out, Lena!’ — just reject her efforts to communicate about the _clearly_ evident issue at hand?

She did.

_Oh, alright, darling, if that’s how you want this,_ Lena thinks. _If not the carrot, then the stick._

Lena stands straighter, grateful that her heels put her close to Kara’s eyeline, and sucks on her teeth. “Okay,” she states. “If you don’t want to talk, that’s fine — I will.”

Kara’s lips tense, as if she’s suddenly aware that she’s stepped into a trap she certainly does not want to be in.

“What you’re doing is absolutely unacceptable. There is _no reason_ for you to go play basketball. You are under doctor’s orders not to engage in any physical activity for the next few weeks, let alone a sport requiring a heavy amount of shoulder motion,” Lena states. “You were beyond-fortunate that nothing was torn, but here you are, acting like it’s some sort of inconvenience.”

Kara swallows roughly, keeping her eyes on the ground between them, arms crossed over her chest, exhaling out slowly under her breath.

“Do you not understand how easily you could re-injure yourself? I assume Alex already explained it somewhat,” Lena continues. “I mean, for fuck’s sake, Kara, that sling should not even leave your body for the next two weeks. You’re being incredibly reckless and short-sighted about your recovery.”

Kara tilts her head up some, and for a second Lena thinks she might have the gall to look her straight in the eye, but instead Kara just stares at something over Lena’s shoulder, her good arm moving to idly tug the back hem of her gym shirt out of her waistband.

“ _What_ was so dire that you needed to play basketball today?” Lena asks. It’s the final time she will, and they both know it. “I’m listening.”

Silence flickers between them.

“I … I’m supposed to go meet James and Nia soon for our journalism project,” Kara says. “I should go.”

She gives Lena one last guilty look, only her pride’s distance away from apologetic, and turns to leave with her backpack thrown over her shoulder.

“Kara?” Lena calls.

The blonde pauses, turning her head to the side so that one ear faces Lena, but her eyes don’t dare look back.

“Will I still see you tonight?” Lena asks, sucking on her teeth. “I was planning on taking my girlfriend out for a nice dinner to celebrate her recent accomplishments, after all. Though, if we’re just going to stare at each other in sullen silence the entire time, we can do that somewhere less expensive and public as Il Palazzo.”

“Yeah,” Kara says softly. “I’ll be there.”

“Thank you,” Lena states. “I’ll pick you up at seven sharp. Make sure you’re dressed accordingly.”

Kara nods once, and disappears behind the door.

* * *

Kara fucked up.

She had looked her girlfriend right in the face, with her hand still caught in the metaphorical cookie jar, and said _“I don’t want to talk about it”_ like an idiot with zero sense of self-preservation.

It went over like a mouthful of glass.

Oh, Lena’s tone and the look in her eyes — (fuck, those eyes) — it all combined into a dangerously potent serum that almost had Kara spilling her every secret. Almost.

But she didn’t.

Because if she told Lena _why_ , then she’d have to admit the nagging thoughts twisting around in her mind were more than just a little seed of insecurity.

So Kara had resolved to just swallow it back down and pretend like everything was fine. Because it was. There was nothing bothering her. No particular reason she went to the gym to shoot around and clear her head.

It’s not a good plan, but it’s all she’s got.

Her plan works for all of five hours, until she tries to put her suit on in preparation for dinner, and she realizes it’s the first time she’s had to get dressed without Lena’s help.

Kara elects to wear the blue suit Lena bought her for the Luthor Foundation fundraiser, only with a white button-up instead of the maroon one, and a new black sling Lena also bought her.

Though ‘wear’ is probably a bit of an overstatement. It's immediately evident once she starts to put the suit on; getting dressed with one hand is _hard_.

For starters, her socks are maddingly twisted, no matter how many small alterations Kara tries to make to them. She can get her pants on, and thread the belt through the loops, but she can’t quite fasten either item closed. She can’t tie her shoes. She can’t put together the two halves of her new fancy front-closure compression bra — (Lena had bought some for her, once Kara realized she’d be looking at the next few weeks braless and in baggy, overly-warm layers) — and the open bra means she can’t even start trying to button her dress shirt. So, she’s stuck.

And Alex isn’t home, of course. Maybe the sweet old lady next door would be willing to offer a hand? No, no, she can’t let Mrs. Stein see her like this — fly open and tits out, literally.

So Kara only really has one option left.

The universe has a sense of humor, because Lena chooses that exact moment to text her.

**_hot girl luthor:_ ** _I’m outside._

_im not dressed yet_

**_hot girl luthor:_ ** _I said be ready by seven, Kara._

Kara sighs before typing out her next response.

_i know, im sorry, but i cant finish getting dressed alone_

**_hot girl luthor:_ ** _Give me five minutes to park and I’ll be up._

_thank you. door’s unlocked_

Lena comes in all-business. An icy chill seems to surround her, sublimating at a temperature that would make dry ice seem warm, and no greeting is spoken. Kara honestly barely looks at her the whole time, instead taking great interest in the wall and the ceiling. But, oh, can she still feel Lena’s presence.

The raven-haired woman starts by clasping Kara’s bra together, and then rapidly buttons together her shirt. Her nimble fingers work at an almost intimidating pace. Without much preamble, Lena then shoves her hand down Kara’s pants and Kara jumps in surprise at the abrupt motion, only settling when she realizes Lena’s just tucking in her shirt. Lena fastens her fly next and seals her belt closed with an almost painfully-sharp jerk of the leather.

A throbbing starts up in Kara’s recently-closed pants, and while there’s nothing hot about an angry girlfriend, there's maybe (definitely) something arousing about an angry Lena Luthor.

“Jacket,” Lena commands, and Kara’s haze is broken. Somehow Lena’s already gotten her shoes tied, and is now holding up Kara’s suit jacket with an expectant look.

Kara nods and holds up her left arm with the support of her right. It’s a technique Lena had found for her to reduce the pain of dressing, and they’ve been using it with significant success everyday since. Lena slides the left sleeve onto her arm, then Kara carefully drops the arm back down, and slides the rest on like usual.

“You need a tie,” Lena states.

“The one from this suit is in the closet,” Kara croaks out. Lena turns around for a moment to grab it.

Kara swallows roughly, not wanting to do so while under Lena’s intense scrutiny, and it’s a sweet relief.

When Lena drapes the tie around Kara’s neck, her hands rest on Kara’s chest for a second too long, and their eyes meet. They break away just as fast. Lena busies herself with tying the fabric into a half-Windsor, and Kara tries to convince her body that they are _not_ enjoying this.

(But they are.)

“You know how to tie a tie?” Kara asks. Oh, there’s a tiny cobweb in the corner of the ceiling.

“I do,” Lena murmurs, focused on tightening up Kara’s knot so it lies perfectly below her throat. To Kara’s relief, she doesn’t strangle her with it. “I used to have to help Lex with his.”

“That’s nice of you,” Kara offers.

“It wasn’t,” Lena states. “Sling.”

Kara holds up her arm again, this time to receive the sling. “What do you mean?”

“If you’ve ever had to dress Alex when she was too far gone, you’d know,” Lena says. “Now add in the paparazzi.”

Kara does know. “Oh.”

“Do you need anything else?” Lena asks, retracting her hands from Kara’s sling strap like it’s suddenly searing hot.

“No,” Kara answers, sliding her phone and her wallet into her pockets. “Thank you for helping me.”

“Of course,” Lena exhales. “Let’s go.”

The car ride downtown only serves to amplify the tense silence between them.

Il Palazzo, as Kara comes to find out, is a very, very nice restaurant. Like the-menus-don’t-have-prices nice, the dining-ware looks too pristine to eat off of, and the décor seems ridiculously lavish too. All the patrons are wearing their best finery to meet the dresscode.

Yet as nice as the restaurant is, Lena puts it all to shame. 

Kara didn’t get a chance to fully appreciate her outfit back at the apartment, but she can’t miss it now. Lena’s hair and makeup are both immaculate: a tight, sleek ponytail, dark eyes, and those trademark red lips that Kara goes weak for. But the absolute apex of the look is the three-piece suit that contrasts beautifully with Kara’s. It’s a deep maroon color that borders on purple, with a black silk shirt underneath, buttoned all the way up to the collar, framing Lena’s neck in the best way.

She looks _expensive_.

And also maybe ready to ruin Kara’s life.

It seems intentional.

(It is.)

“So,” Lena sucks on her teeth, swirling her glass in one hand while her glowering eyes practically pin Kara to her chair. “This is going well.”

“Yeah,” Kara exhales, very, very aware that it is _not_ going well.

There’s a stretch of silence.

“Do you know what you’d like to eat?” Lena asks. “Everything aside, it’s still my treat.”

Her words aren’t malicious or venomous this time; they’re kind and gentle and that’s even worse for Kara’s resolve.

“Uh, n-not really,” Kara stutters, pushing her glasses up her nose. “You look stunning, by the way.”

“Thank you, Kara,” Lena says. There’s almost an air of indifference to it. “I’d recommend the calamari; I know you enjoy seafood. And you should be able to eat it without difficulty.”

Right, one arm. Kara nods softly.

“How is your arm, by the way?” Lena asks. Her voice is steeped in poisoned honey this time. “Sore at all?”

So, so sore, and Kara knows that she was an absolute idiot to try and use it prematurely, but she can’t very well admit that right now. But Lena seems to know the truth anyway.

“It’s fine.”

“I’m glad,” Lena nods. “After seeing how incredibly concerned Alex was for your health and future in the hospital waiting room, I’m glad it’s holding up alright.”

Oh, low blow.

Kara clears her throat, eager to deflect. “Do you know what you’d like to have?”

There’s a dramatic pause before Lena responds.

“The truth, Kara,” Lena deadpans, snapping her menu closed. “But something tells me I'll just be having a steak salad for dinner. Unless you decide you want to communicate and, what was it, ‘talk out our issues together’?”

_I’m fucked._ Kara realizes. _She’s not taking any survivors tonight, is she?_

“Salad sounds tasty,” Kara squeaks.

“I have never once heard you say anything complementary about a vegetable.”

The waiter saves Kara from having to respond to such a firm and begrudgingly accurate statement, but the respite is short lived.

“Have you been able to catch up on all your work?” Lena asks, reverting back to more neutral territory.

“Almost,” Kara offers. “It’s taking me a little longer than I expected. Typ—” Kara cuts herself off, not wanting to draw attention right back to the steaming mess between them, but the damage is already done.

“Yes, I would imagine it’s quite difficult to type one-handed,” Lena hums.

“I’ve adjusted,” Kara lies.

The food does little to mitigate the bellicose mood that envelopes the both of them. Kara tries to keep her mouth constantly full, a perfectly reasonable excuse not to further engage her girlfriend in conversation. They still make small-talk, naturally, and Lena on more than one occasion finds a way to ever-so-slightly prod at the gaping wound between them, trying to force Kara to acknowledge it with a series of tactical guerilla strikes.

But once the meal concludes, Lena is officially over the game.

“Look, Kara,” Lena sighs, rubbing her brow. “I’m done. I don’t want to push you any further; you clearly have some strong resistance to telling me what exactly brought you to the gym today. We both know how hard trust is for each other, and I don’t intend to force the matter, but this isn’t sustainable for your health and my sanity. We’re going to need to figure something out, but we can do it on your timetable. Just tell me what you need from me.”

Well, the tables have officially turned — Lena’s being the rational, communicative one, and Kara’s the one trying to bury her problems behind an emotional fortress. 

Lena’s _trying._ And Kara’s not.

Fuck.

Kara shifts in her chair, pulling her fancy cloth napkin up into her hands to keep her fingers occupied. She glances all around; over to the bar, down at the tablecloth, and out the window overlooking National City. Everywhere but Lena.

Then she does look, only for a split-second, but even a glimpse of that commanding, hardened visage offset by soft, loving eyes is enough to break her resolve, and Kara’s forced to acknowledge that Lena Luthor looking at her like _that_ might just be her mortal kryptonite.

“Uh …” Kara gulps, twisting the fabric under her fingertips. “I think I owe you an apology for how I acted earlier. You were right; there’s something bothering me.”

Lena watches her intently, red lips pursed into a tight frown. She stays silent for Kara to continue.

“It’s … it’s Alex.”

That’s clearly not the reason Lena was expecting, given the severe dip of her brow. “Alex?”

“Uh, yeah,” Kara exhales, holding Lena’s gaze this time. “Alex is supposed to choose her med school soon. That’s why I needed to go shoot.”

“What does Alex’s career path have to do with you ignoring your doctor’s orders?” Lena asks. “If anything, I would think it would help to support a proper recovery, not ignite your self-destructive streak, unless …”

Lena’s eyes widen slightly in realization.

“You’re using basketball to excise your emotions,” Lena states. “Just like you told me you did after you left Krypton.”

“Yeah,” Kara swallows. “It helps me clear my head. It’s just me, the ball, and the hoop. The extra shooting practice never hurts, but it’s not really about that; it’s more meditative than anything.”

“How often do you go?” Lena asks, more out of curiosity than judgment.

“After I lost my parents, I’d do it every day,” Kara says. “Once before school, and once when I got back to the Danvers’ house. And maybe once during the school day too, if I could sneak away to the gym without anyone noticing.”

“That’s … frequent,” Lena notes.

“Most coping strategies are,” Kara half-jokes. “But to answer your question, I do it a lot less now. Now it’s mainly for fun or to be social. If I’m really upset over something, though, I always revert back to it.”

Lena’s eyes narrow slightly. “What kind of upset?”

“School stress, basketball stress,” Kara shrugs. “Life stress … Before we were dating and all, you know the mornings after I'd sleep over at your place, how I’d leave you a note and sneak out before you woke up? I was always going to shoot. It … helped me figure out my feelings for you. Simplify it down.”

That tidbit of information is certainly interesting to Lena, judging by the spark in her eye, but she doesn’t derail the conversation to follow it.

“I’m no stranger to family drama, Kara, why not just tell me the real reason?” Lena asks.

“… I didn’t want to say it out loud,” Kara says. “I feel like a bad enough person for even thinking these things, let alone actually admitting them to someone.”

“So you’re upset over Alex’s choices?” Lena guesses. “Did she choose a school yet?”

“No, not yet,” Kara explains. “It’s down to Myriad Medical here in National City, or some amazing school up in Seattle.”

“Kara, Alex got into Myriad?” Lena’s face lights up with incredible delight. “Myriad is one of the best medical schools in the country. That’s incredible!”

“Yeah, but so’s the other school,” Kara grumbles.

“You think she’s going to choose Seattle?” Lena frowns. “Over Myriad? I mean, I’m sure the other school is wonderful, but Kara, it’s _Myriad_. And she could stay here in National City, close to you and her mother. How could she say no?”

“Because … maybe she doesn’t want to be near me anymore,” Kara whispers, tugging at the seam of her napkin. “Maybe she wants to go somewhere else, somewhere I’m not.”

Lena’s face falls instantly. “ … Kara? Why would you think Alex wouldn’t want to stay close to you? Did something happen between you two?”

“No, everything’s been great recently, I—” Kara takes a deep breath. “Ever since I was adopted, I know there’s a part of Alex that’s always felt responsible for me. She’s always had to look out for me; in part because of the pressure our parents put on her. She and I talked it out a while ago but … what if she’s still tired of it? What if she’s ready to be done with me?”

Lena says silent to allow Kara the space to continue.

“How could I blame her for wanting to go be her own person?” Kara asks. “And what’s worse — I do want her to choose Myriad! I’d love another year together with her, even if it’ll be a little different. It’s selfish and shortsighted of me, considering how I won’t even know where _I’ll_ be after graduation, depending on what team drafts me, but …”

Kara glances down at the table as she continues. “I wasn’t trying to be bad about my shoulder, well, at least not really. And you’re right, I know it’s important for everything to heal properly, especially for my draft stock. It’s just … I can control all of that. But I can’t control Alex’s choices. And it makes me feel helpless.”

“Kara, it’s alright to want Alex to stay in National City,” Lena soothes. “You’re not wrong to want that, and I know you only want the best for Alex at the same time. But whatever decision Alex makes, it’s not a reflection of how she feels about you — it’s a business decision. Besides, regardless of where you two may end up, together or apart, you will always have each other.”

“But what if we don’t?” Kara whispers. “We didn’t always get along. Basketball was how we first bonded, but if we don’t have that anymore then … I don’t know.”

“Then you’ll find a way,” Lena states. “Basketball doesn’t make you two sisters; the way you both care for each other does. Nothing will change that fact.”

Kara didn’t realize how badly she needed to hear that until Lena said it aloud.

“You really think so?” she asks, voice fragile yet hopeful once more.

“Of course,” Lena chuckles. “What did Alex say earlier? ‘Listen to your genius girlfriend’?”

“Oh, no,” Kara throws her head back, half-chuckling, half-groaning. “I’m never going to hear the end of that, am I?”

Lena pretends to give it a moment’s contemplation. “No, you’re not.”

“Well,” Kara just smiles, accepting her fate. “I guess there are worse things.”

“So are you alright?” Lena asks. “I know it can’t be easy, dealing with all of this on top of everything else. You’ve had quite the busy week.”

“Yeah, I’m good,” Kara nods. “I’m sorry, Lena. You were just trying to be a good girlfriend, and I pushed you away.”

“It’s alright,” Lena reassures. “This is all new to me too.”

“What, dating a stubborn idiot?” Kara laughs. “You and Maggie could probably swap notes at some point.”

“No,” Lena smiles, shaking her head. “No, I meant this whole … having a healthy, honest relationship thing. Communication. I’m sure we’re bound to have a bit of a learning curve.”

Kara’s lips twist in consternation. “No, Lena, you did everything right today. You were a great girlfriend, and I should’ve appreciated it more at first, and I’m sorry I didn’t, but I do now.”

“I … thank you.” Lena blushes and glances off to the side, as if she's not used to the praise. It's a harsh reminder to Kara just how hard Lena is on herself, and Kara feels the need to admire her ten-times over to compensate. Lena is _wonderful_ and she deserves to know and feel that way.

But then the waiter swings by with dessert menus and Kara decides if she’s going to give Lena a storm of compliments, it would only be appropriate to do so over some sweet, sugary goodness.

It’s easy how fast they slip back into being lovers unbarred. 

Kara orders something with way too much sugar; Lena acts disgusted by it but still tries to steal a bite. Kara, with her superior utensil-reflexes and years of training (thanks, Alex), stabs her own fork through Lena’s, effectively stopping the robbery, but then Lena looks at her in _that_ way, and Kara ends up losing about a third of her dessert in the name of love.

“This is going well,” Kara comments, leaning back in her seat with a blissful smirk across her face. It’s actually true this time.

“Yes,” Lena smiles. Her eyes twinkle in a way that would put the grandest of stars to shame.

“Not a bad second date, Luthor,” Kara winks. She then leans forward in a conspiratorial way and whispers, “I should warn you though, I don’t have sex this early into dating. It’s important to have rules, you know.”

“Is it now?” Lena teases, cocking a playful brow. “I certainly didn’t realize you were such the rule-abiding type, Danvers. Is there anything strong enough to compromise that steel?”

“Hmm, I could be convinced,” Kara replies. “Depends on the incentive, though …”

“Well, your meal’s paid for, and the tip is some exorbitant amount to match,” Lena rattles off. She then leans forward in a mirror of Kara’s pose, and in a coy whisper offers, “Oh, and I’m wearing lingerie under this suit. It would be a terrible shame if you never got to see it.”

Kara’s soul gets stuck somewhere in her throat.

“And I’m convinced!”

They both get a little too handsy as they exit the booth — Lena who fiddles with Kara’s perfectly-fine sling strap once they stand, and Kara who places her hand on the small of Lena’s back an unnecessary amount of times as they leave.

“Thank you,” Kara murmurs, as they make their way out of the restaurant. Kara holds the building door open for Lena as they exit, and Lena then opens the car door for Kara in return.

“For dinner?” Lena asks, sliding in behind the wheel. “Of course, Kara, I’m glad we could celebrate. You know how much I enjoy spoiling you, right?”

Kara blushes vibrant red. “Oh, uh, I, you don’t—”

An overly-amused look from Lena silences her. “That reaction is duly noted, darling.”

Oh, Kara’s fucked, but in a good way this time.

“I mean, yes, thank you for dinner,” Kara says, recollecting herself with a cheek-burning smile. “But what I actually meant was: thank you for not giving up on me earlier.”

“I could thank you for the same thing,” Lena says. 

They both know there’s a heavy truth to that; deep and double-sided.

“Speaking of, I … I went to talk to someone,” Lena takes a sharp breath, not quite masked fully by the thrum of the engine turning on.

Kara’s brow crinkles. “About what?”

“No, I … I went to _talk_ to someone,” Lena reiterates. “A therapist.”

“You did?” Kara doesn’t even bother to try and stop the pride from seeping into her voice. But she worries it’s not enough; she needs Lena to _know._ “Lena, I’m really proud of you. I know that’s not easy.”

Lena swallows and gives a succinct nod. “Thank you, Kara.”

“What did you think of it?” Kara asks, voice light and noncommittal. She doesn’t want to pressure Lena to discuss it if she doesn’t want to, but she wants Lena to know the option is available regardless.

“Oh, I hate it,” comes Lena’s blunt response. “I’d rather get a colonoscopy.”

“Oh,” Kara sucks on her lips, not sure if she’s restraining laughter or disappointment. “So it’s not for you, then?”

Lena lets out a deep sigh. “No, unfortunately, I’ll be going back. Regardless of my personal feelings on the matter, I do see it’s value. And I thought about what you said, back in Gateway City; you’re right — there is something to build here. I feel it too. But I know, logically, we need to have a strong foundation to do so, which means I should probably get started on unpacking my copious family trauma if we stand a chance.”

Kara blinks in awe.

“I love you,” Kara offers. It’s about the only coherent sentence that she can string together to capture how she feels. Pride. Gratitude. Hope. (A little horny, too.)

“I love you too,” Lena says, voice preciously soft. “Now — about our rapidly-impending third date … I have some _ideas._ ”

Kara decides maybe a lack of self-preservation is a good thing to have.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up will be meeting the Superfriends! Update to follow in two weeks. It'll be long to make up for the wait.


	23. in love and war

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The national champions celebrate their title. Lena meets Kara’s friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back! (Even though it's like the middle of the night, oops.) Thank you all for your patience. Also, I finally noticed the 'reply' feature for comments; I tried to answer any direct questions left recently.
> 
> Thank you to IcarusAndHerSun for the wonderful beta reading.
> 
> Warnings: brief, general mention of relationships with food

* * *

The first Friday after NCU wins the national championship, a parade is thrown.

It’s hosted over the course of a few blocks downtown, ending in Midtown Park. Thousands of students and fans end up attending, a sea of sky blue and white, with the Comets’ logo plastered absolutely everywhere. The team gets to ride along the route on the top of a double-decker bus. Lena hears many, many times from Kara about how much fun it was up there, and even if she doubted the first-hand account, it’s clear from the look on Kara’s face in all of the photos that she was having the absolute time of her life.

It’s oddly endearing.

At the end of the route, the team transitions to a stage on the ground. Remarks are given by the mayor, the lieutenant governor, NCU’s president, Coach J’onn, and some of the players. Naturally, Kara is one of them. Lena doesn’t attend the parade, already having missed an unprecedented amount of class recently (by her standards, certainly not Kara’s), but she’s able to get a thorough recap between Jack, who does go, and Kara herself.

The event doesn’t last all that long — albeit the resulting property damage and lingering confetti will surely persist for much longer — but it’s really only the beginning of the party for the Comets. By Lena’s estimate, Kara and the rest of the team probably drink for about twelve hours straight, concerning under any other circumstance, but it’s a pleasant celebration for them all.

None of the Comets make it to Al’s that night. Instead they attend an ‘absolute rager’ (Kara’s words) at ‘Rip’s house’ (an actual house, turns out) thrown in honor of the national champions. From the videos scattered across social media, three things are made perfectly clear:

1) Celebrating a national championship apparently requires an alarming amount of cheap champagne, even more of a cheap beer repeatedly dubbed ‘natties for the natty champs’, and zero sense of self-preservation.

2) Re: the lack of self-preservation, the Comets have consumed a terrifying amount of said beverages over the past several hours to repeated chants of “we go dumb, we go stupid!”, while somehow also getting progressively wetter in each video …?

3) Kara Danvers can make ripping a beer bong look hot and Lena has never hated her traitorous body more.

It’s a sharp contrast to Lena’s evening.

In the Comets’ absence, Al’s is surprisingly peaceful that night. Lena meets Jack and Andrea there for a few late-night drinks, interrupted intermittently by Lena’s phone buzzing with Kara’s incoherent yet oddly endearing drunk texts. Kara’s not expecting a response — they had both agreed that they were to have their own respective evenings out without obligation to stay in contact — but her messages still come in unconstrained little bursts.

“I think Supergirl wants your attention,” Jack muses, looking down pointedly at Lena’s phone.

Lena switches the device over to silent. “ _Supergirl_ is just drunk and easily distractible.”

Jack chuckles. “By your tits? Who isn’t?”

“ _Jack_.”

“No, he’s right,” comes Andrea’s duplicitous support.

“She gave a really good speech at the parade, you know,” Jack informs her with a pointed look. “It’s a shame you missed it.”

“I couldn’t skip another class, Jack,” Lena sighs. “I’m just finally caught up now. Kara understands. Besides, she’s the reason for it all.”

“Sure, sure. I’m just saying, your girl’s got quite the silver tongue,” Jack’s expression shifts to something almost maliciously deviant. “Though I’m sure you and her tongue are well-acquainted already.”

Andrea giggles into her whiskey. “As if _Lena Luthor_ would allow anything less than the best, Jack. Especially into her bed.”

“Can you two please refrain from discussing my sex life in public?” Lena sucks on her teeth, idly swirling her scotch in one hand. “It’s a common courtesy.”

“Sorry, love,” Jack says. “But I just _can’t_ ; I don’t have a stick up my ass.”

“Currently, anyway,” Andrea quips.

“What can I say? I know how to have fun,” Jack shrugs and polishes off the remainder of his whiskey. “I’m going to run to the little boys’ room. Please refrain from fucking any professional—” he glares at Andrea, then Lena, “—or soon-to-be professional women’s basketball players until I return.”

Andrea and Lena both roll their eyes at him, settling into a soft exchange of laughter.

“You know, I think he’s genuinely a little upset that you got to sleep with Sara Lance and he didn’t,” Lena tilts her glass at Andrea.

“Yeah, well, Jack’s a big boy,” Andrea sighs. “He’ll get over it. I’m not about to apologize for living my best life.”

Lena smiles into her glass and takes a sip. “Speaking of apologies, I think I owe you one. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner about Kara and I. It truly wasn’t personal; I would’ve kept it from Jack if I could have.”

“Thank you, Lena,” Andrea nods, giving her friend a soft smile. “I know you and I don’t really do the whole ‘talking about our feelings’ thing, but I am happy for you. She seems good for you.”

“She is,” Lena concedes. “Not that I ever anticipated it.”

“No,” Andrea laughs. “But this year is just full of surprises for us both. Think there’s any left to go?”

“God, I hope not,” Lena sighs. “I’m supposed to meet Kara’s friends tomorrow, and I think that’s just about all of the unknown as I can handle at once.”

Andrea raises her eyebrows. “I thought Lena Luthor didn’t get nervous? Unless it was over breaking the headmaster’s rules, or a few little laws …?”

“You certainly pressured that out of me years ago,” Lena retorts. “When my hair starts to grey prematurely, you’ll be paying for my salon appointments, Andrea.”

“Oh, hush,” Andrea gives her a wicked smile. “We both know you loved your little period of teenage rebellion, Lena — breaking all those rules. Look at all the good it’s done for you.”

Well, now, maybe there’s something there. Lena does seem to have a strong affinity for breaking rules now … especially those involving Kara Danvers.

* * *

Kara Danvers should be hungover.

Kara Danvers should be _hungover as fuck_.

Lena’s no fool; she’s well aware that Kara had a lot to drink last night. So logically, it would be less than surprising to Lena if her girlfriend has a massive hangover to match, reduced down to a corpse with a pulse.

It wouldn’t be ideal, considering Lena’s planned a special, confidential date for them today, and it more or less requires Kara to be a fully-functional human being. But given last night, that outcome now seems doubtful. Even Supergirl has to have her limits; everyone does, it’s no surprise.

So then what is _highly_ surprising is the next day, when Lena arrives at the Danvers’ apartment, and Kara is just as chipper and well-functioning as ever.

“Shouldn’t you be hungover?” Lena’s brow furrows, staring at the blonde in utter disbelief from across the kitchen. She slowly sets down the carryout bag containing their sandwiches for lunch on the island countertop.

“Nah,” Kara smiles. She plops down onto one of the island barstools, bare-faced and clad in athletic-wear as Lena had requested. “I'm good to go. And look, I got my contacts in one-handed today!”

“I’m glad, darling,” Lena offers, still not quite believing what she’s seeing.

Wondering if she’s being pranked or something, Lena takes a moment to survey the rest of the apartment. The blinds are all drawn shut, the TV is muted, and almost all of the lights are off. The stage certainly seems set for hangover recuperation.

“You’re _not_ hungover?” Lena repeats, looking back at Kara in confusion. “You were _very_ drunk last night.”

“Yes and yes,” Kara answers. “Remember that drink I gave you after Lex’s party? I used it yesterday to get all hangover-bulletproof, and it worked. Always does.”

Kara points across the counter to a familiar-looking electrolyte drink. Sure enough, it’s the one that had worked surprisingly well for curing Lena’s own hangover, though she had forgotten about it in the aftermath of that night’s other events.

 _That company should really consider rebranding for the college market_ , Lena thinks.

There’s probably about an inch of blue liquid left in Kara’s bottle when she reaches for it. Spotting the predicament that Kara’s about to have — opening a bottle cap with only one available hand — Lena grabs it first. She quickly twists off the cap then hands it to Kara, who’s looking at her in surprise.

“Thanks,” Kara smiles over the plastic bottle lip. She drains the rest of it with ease.

“Of course,” Lena nods. “So what’s the plan for today?”

She begins to unpack their lunches while Kara watches her with unforgivingly soft eyes. 

“Lunch, then you take me on our super-secret date,” Kara rattles off. “We could grab dinner after together, if you want — but otherwise just get ready and go meet everyone at Al’s.”

Lena nods along, blatantly ignoring the sinking nerves in her stomach. She’s supposed to meet Kara’s friends tonight and the associated anxiety only seems to compound with every passing hour.

“We’ll get to Al’s early, so it’ll just be us, Alex, Maggie, and Lucy at first,” Kara continues. “The boys will come a little bit later once they finish their pregame. I thought it would help to stagger things.”

“Is that it?” Lena asks. That doesn’t sound too terrible.

“Yup! Brainy took Nia to a concert tonight so they’re not around,” Kara says. “So you probably won’t meet them until Game Night.”

Game Night? Now that sounds terribly domestic. It’s one thing to meet Kara’s friends in a dark, crowded bar that Lena was certainly already going to be at, cushioned by the buffer of alcohol, but the concept of Game Night, bright and personal, is … intimidating.

Her therapist will certainly have some work to put in next week.

“Okay,” Lena gulps. She’s Lena fucking Luthor, she can do this. “Anything else I should know?”

“Just that you’re going to do great, I love you — and I’m very excited for my sandwich,” Kara stares pointedly at her food trapped under Lena’s hands.

“Hungry?” Lena teases, arching an eyebrow. Kara looks somewhere close to drooling.

Lena takes pity on her.

Kara reaches out with open hands to receive the sandwich as Lena slides it over to her. “Always!”

Lena allows herself a small chuckle; apparently her heart is equally taken with Kara’s hungry-monster side as she is with the other ones. She then cracks open her own lunch to eat — a salad — and Kara predictably makes a face at it.

“Do not make faces at my salad,” Lena warns, pouring raspberry vinaigrette over the food in question. “It’s my favorite and it’s actually quite delicious to those of us who don’t have the palate of a child.”

“Oh, Lena Luthor’s a big fucking liar,” Kara jokes, after she’s swallowed her first (large) bite of food. “There’s no way that salad tastes better than something like candy. And my _palate_ is fun and enjoyable!” 

“You literally have the same vegetables in your sandwich,” Lena deadpans. “And your _palate_ is pre-diabetic.”

“They don’t count. I don’t even want them, but Alex makes me eat vegetables ‘for my health’, it’s stupid,” Kara pouts. “I’m only eating them because they’re being hidden by the meat and cheese.”

“Your ‘health’ is not stupid, Kara,” Lena rolls her eyes. “You’re a college athlete; aren’t you supposed to be all militant and obsessive about what you put in your body?”

“Mm, you’d think,” Kara says. “But actually, J’onn is really good about encouraging us to have _healthy_ relationships with food. We’re lucky — most female athletes don’t get that.”

The genuine honesty in Kara’s response catches Lena off-guard, and whatever clever retort she had prepared is lost in favor of honoring that topic with the sincerity it deserves.

“Oh … that’s good,” Lena says. “I—Lillian was always … well, I’m sure you heard her yourself. Luckily, Mercy was around to help me see clearly.”

In what Lena will later recognize to be a sacrificial gesture, Kara stops eating, sets her sandwich down, and reaches over to give Lena’s hand a loving squeeze.

“I’m glad,” Kara murmurs, eyes full of adoration. “Because you’re absolutely beautiful and you deserve to feel that way.”

“Thank you, Kara. I-I do.”

Lena clears her throat and Kara retracts back to her sandwich.

“By the way, thanks for getting lunch as takeout,” Kara says, moving the conversation along. “I would’ve met you there, but Maggie’s using Alex’s car today, I lost my bus pass, and I’ve already spent way too much money on ride-shares this year.”

“It’s no problem,” Lena chuckles. “But you’re mistaken, it’s ‘carryout’.”

“No,” Kara squints. “It’s ‘takeout’, Luthor.”

“You mean carryout? That’s the only proper term for it, I’m afraid.”

“ _Takeout_ ,” Kara insists, getting a bit louder in her passionate stance. “You live on the West Coast now so you’ll call it by the right term.”

Lena arches a deadly brow, raising her voice slightly to match Kara’s. “Oh, will I now?”

Much to Lena’s amusement, Kara’s resolve does soften a little in the face of danger. “I’m just saying, Lena, you’re being sacrilegious—”

“What you’re both being is really fucking loud,” a third voice interjects, sounding less than pleased. 

There, trudging out of the Danvers’ shared bedroom, paler than usual and with dark bags under her eyes, is Alex Danvers. She, frankly, looks like she feels like shit (Lena knows, she’s quite familiar with that feeling) and she looks like shit too. 

“Don’t you two have somewhere to be?” Alex gripes at them both, walking closer.

It clicks a second before Kara says anything; _Alex_ is hungover.

“We’re eating lunch first. Lena, meet hungover-Alex,” Kara introduces, waving her sandwich in the direction of her sister. Sandwich lettuce carelessly sprays across the counter. “She’s an asshole but we still love her.”

Lena shoots Kara a side-glance. Since when does Alex drink enough to get hungover?

Kara nods a small acknowledgement but doesn’t offer an explanation. Later, then.

“You’re so funny,” Alex bites at her sister, then goes to chug Kara’s entire glass of water.

“Hey!”

“Fuck you,” Alex says as she pulls the glass away from her lips.

“Can you at least refill it?” Kara asks, gesturing in exasperation at her now empty glass.

Alex’s eyes narrow into a tight glare but she refills the glass all the same. 

“So how was last night?” Lena asks. 

“So much fun!” comes Kara’s chipper response, at the same time that Alex growls, “Too much fun.”

Alex turns to face her sister, a very unhappy look on her face. “Why are you like this? I hope you get the worst hangover of your life next time.”

“I told you to use my drink technique!” Kara protests. “ _I’m_ not the one who had to prove they’re not a lightweight now.”

“I want to strangle you.”

“Honestly, Kara,” Lena says. “If I was hungover and you were this high-functioning after drinking the same amount, I’d probably suffocate you too.”

Kara turns to face her with innocent eyes and a devilish smile. “Well, as long as it’s with your thighs like the other night …”

“Oh my god,” Alex retches, hand flying up to her mouth. “I think I’m gonna puke again.”

Lena does actually take a step back from Alex, mildly concerned by how genuine her statement sounds. Alex sways around just slightly, hand still over her mouth, eyes focused inwards in her self-evaluation.

“Yeah, no, I’m gonna do it,” Alex decides, and makes a beeline right for the bathroom.

Lena grimaces, but Kara seems wholly unperturbed as she decimates her last bit of sandwich. 

“She’s fine,” Kara says. “She doesn’t have anything left to throw up.”

The utter blasé with which Kara regards the whole situation is a bit disorienting, but Lena trusts her judgment. Besides, if Kara ever came in telling Lena how to handle a coked-out Lex, she’d probably laugh right in the blonde’s face. It’s an expertise that’s earned.

“So can I ask about that …?” Lena glances over in the direction of the bathroom door.

“Yeah,” Kara nods, sucking on her bottom lip. “She and Maggie worked something out so that Alex could have one wild night celebrating with the team. All three of us kinda knew this was going to be the end result, so Maggie didn’t drink at all last night, and we both came back here to take care of Alex after. That was her one freebie though — they’re back on their six-step plan now.”

Lena nods in understanding. “So everything’s alright then?”

“Yup,” Kara promises, and Lena believes her. “It was all planned out. Everything’s okay.”

“Well then, I only have one more question left,” Lena says. “Did you enjoy your _carryout_ , Danvers?”

“Wow, okay,” Kara flicks a piece of loose lettuce at Lena’s forehead. “It’s like you don’t even listen to me.”

The lettuce hits with a wet _phlip_ and Lena briefly considers how hard it would be to hide the blonde’s body. 

“Do _not_ flick sandwich lettuce at me, Kara Danvers,” Lena threatens.

“Or what?” Kara jeers. “You’re about to take me on some super-soft, secret date you’ve been planning for days. You’re gonna have to be nice to me the entire time.”

Lena grins wickedly, exposing sharp canines. “Oh … just you wait and see.”

* * *

Kara realizes the instant they walk into the building that she's greatly miscalculated — this is _not_ a date that Lena has to be nice to her on.

Not anywhere fucking close.

So Kara just takes a deep sigh and embraces the fact that she’s about to get her ass beat by the championship fencer she just slightly pissed off … at fencing.

“What do you think?” Lena asks. There’s just the slightest tremor of uncertainty to her words.

“I think this is _awesome_ , Lena!” Kara says, looking around in awe. They’re at what must be National City’s nicest fencing club, with minimalistic décor that still manages to look expensive, and numerous pictures and accolades hung on the brick walls. “Are we going to fence?”

“We are,” Lena nods. “Jess rented out the whole place for us this afternoon.”

“Oh, so Jess knows about us too?” Kara grins. “I’ve been handler-approved?”

Lena rolls her eyes and ignores her comment entirely. “I’ve been thinking about what you said at dinner the other night. While I absolutely do _not_ approve of you going to play basketball, I understand how you might miss having a physical outlet to vent with. So I was thinking … this might be able to help.”

“I can still fence with one arm?” Kara asks.

“Yes. You’ll hold the sabre in your right hand; the left arm is mainly used for balance,” Lena explains. “So it won’t be perfect, but I thought it would merit an attempt at least. If you’re interested in trying … ?”

“I definitely am, but I think I should start apologizing about the lettuce now,” Kara chuckles.

“Scared, Danvers?” Lena raises a brow.

“Smart,” Kara corrects. “If I had known you’d be spending the afternoon with a sword pointed at me, I would’ve been on my best behavior earlier.”

“Oh, Kara,” Lena tsks, patting a teasing hand over her collarbone. “We both know you don’t have a ‘best behavior’. Now, come on, we’ll need to get changed.”

Lena leads them both into the locker room, which is just as empty as the rest of the building (save the one front-desk employee that let them in). She scans the rows of lockers until she stops at a large standing one marked with a sticky-note that reads ‘Luthor’. Lena enters in some combination off her phone into the padlock, and the metal door swings open to reveal two full sets of fencing equipment. At least that’s what Kara infers it is — it just looks like a mass of white fabric to her.

Lena turns to look at Kara with a playful twinkle in her eyes, and it’s a blow to Kara’s gut in the best way. “Ready to strip?”

“For you? Always,” Kara chuckles. “But why do I feel like I’m heading for my execution?”

“Don’t worry, _darling_ ,” Lena gives her a coy look. “I’ll be gentle … well, with this part.”

“Don’t worry, _babe_ ,” Kara mirrors. “I won’t break. Do your worst.”

Kara winks at Lena, and the raven-haired woman retaliates by raising a hard chin. “Think you can handle it, Danvers?”

“Only one way to find out.”

As they dress in the fencing equipment item-by-item — Lena puts Kara’s on her first, then her own before moving on — Lena explains what each piece is called and the role it serves.

(Kara does briefly consider trying to derail the whole date when she sees Lena in nothing but the white pants and a plastic chest protector, midriff delightfully bare and oh so kissable, but she refrains, wanting to support Lena’s interests first and foremost.)

They decide it’s best to just keep Kara’s arm in the sling, and to hide it under the protective layers of the plastron and the jacket. It would be a tight fit if Lena hadn’t ordered Kara’s gear in a size larger in preparation, but she had, so it feels more just odd than anything.

“I feel like I’m wearing a straight-jacket,” Kara remarks, looking down at her left side. Lena’s tucked the empty left sleeve out of the way, so it looks like she’s just fully missing an arm, save the odd horizontal protrusion from her stomach.

“That’s actually a mildly fair description,” Lena says. “Hand.”

Kara holds out her right hand and Lena yanks a protective glove over top of it, fingertips brushing a brief blaze up the inside of Kara’s wrist. Kara flexes her fingers, not used to the mild restriction the glove creates.

“That should be everything,” Lena says, handing Kara a helmet — no, a mask, Kara remembers — before she grabs her own. “The lamés and sabres are set out for us in the practice room.”

“Lamés?” Kara asks, following Lena as they exit the locker room.

“It’s a conductive jacket that registers any blows to the body,” Lena explains. “Electronic scoring is the standard, especially at the higher levels. Here, set your mask down.”

“… I’m not going to get electrocuted, am I?” Kara says, looking down at the lamé Lena’s fastening around her with wary eyes.

“No,” Lena says with amusement.

“That’s good,” Kara says. “Because that would be a rather _shocking_ end to our date.”

“You are aware that puns are about as far away from an aphrodisiac as you can get, right?”

“Excuse you, puns are—” Kara stops mid-retort, her brain short-circuiting at the sight of Lena Luthor holding a fucking _sword_. “Um.”

“Trouble, Danvers?” Lena raises a cocky brow.

“No,” Kara squeaks.

Lena then spins the sabre in her hand so that part of the hilt is open for Kara to grab, which does absolutely nothing to help Kara’s brain recover.

Hot, hot, hot … _hot_.

Lena’s still looking at her expectantly and it finally dawns on Kara what she needs to do. She reaches out and grabs the sabre hilt, tossing it around in her hand until she’s got a solid grip on it.

“Good?” Lena asks, grabbing a sabre for herself.

“Good,” Kara nods. “Show me how it’s done.”

Lena walks her through all the various moves: attacks, parries, blocks. Kara tries her best to follow along … She can use the tip _or_ the blade of her sabre. It’s more about hitting with speed than power. And oh, Lena Luthor looks so fucking _hot_ holding a sword.

It feels a bit like a personal attack against Kara.

Kara also suspects that all of Lena’s little touches — on her back, on her arm, on her waist — are less to be educational and more to fuel what Kara’s certain is a mental marathon that she’s undeniably destined to lose.

After they go over the physical basics, Lena moves onto the rules.

“You can hit your opponent anywhere from the waist-up, including the head,” Lena explains. “But for the sake of your health and my conscience, I’m not going to strike anywhere near your left shoulder or that thick skull of yours.”

“I thought you liked my thick things,” Kara winks. “But thank you for your benevolence.”

“Keep opening your mouth, Danvers, and we’ll see _just_ how benevolent I’m feeling.”

It’s probably a bad idea to antagonize Lena Luthor while she’s holding a weapon, and yet, it’s oh so fun. 

“Ignoring that — am I good to still aim anywhere on you then?” Kara repeats.

“Above the waist, yes,” Lena nods. “If both players are to hit at the same time, the referee would usually decide who gets the point based on priority. Priority is decided by whoever controls the momentum of the fight. But you have to actually make an attack, you can’t just be the first to move quickly.”

“Got it,” Kara says. “What do you want to do without a ref?”

“We’ll figure it out between ourselves,” Lena says. “Or you can just have the point.”

“Woah, no, I want to earn my points fully,” Kara insists.

“Very well,” Lena bites on her lower lip, and oh, what were they doing again?

“Kara,” Lena’s voice summons her back to attention.

“Yeah?”

“I was saying; you lose priority by making an error, like missing your target, or being blocked or parried,” Lena says. “If both players make a mistake, no one wins priority.”

Kara hums an acknowledgment.

“A skilled player may try to trap the other into making an error, so their strike falls short or misses entirely,” Lena says. “That would cause them to lose priority.”

“How do you tell if something is a mistake or not?” Kara asks.

“With practice. You can tell from the flow of the fight if a blow lands as it was intended to,” Lena explains. “After being struck, you only have a _very_ small window to retaliate, which is why you need to be fast and decisive in your movements.”

“Okay, be fast,” Kara nods along. “So you get a point for hitting the other person, but how do you win the whole thing?”

“There’s some variation among the different weapons, but the core is the same; the first to fifteen points — fifteen touches — wins the bout,” Lena explains. “There are breaks between the periods, but sabre goes incredibly fast, so it’s very rare that it ever takes the allotted three minutes.”

“Sounds good,” Kara says. “What do the lines mean? Are they the boundary lines?”

“Yes, the lines on the floor comprise the piste. You have to be on it to score,” Lena says. “You can chase your opponent off the back of the strip to force a point. If you go off the side, we halt and restart with you having lost a meter.”

“Okay, stay in the lines, got it,” Kara says. “I think I’m ready to spar then.”

“Alright,” Lena smiles, like she knows something Kara doesn’t. “Come here and I’ll put your mask on.”

The mask feels a bit odd and heavy around Kara’s head, restricting her in some hard-to-classify way, but she doesn’t want to seem soft in front of Lena, so she doesn’t dare complain.

“Stand on that line,” Lena points and Kara follows. Lena reaches down to pick up her own mask, but it remains in her hand while she continues to talk.

“We salute each other to begin. Just bring the sabre blade up to your chin and back down,” Lena says. “Usually opponents salute unmasked, but I don’t want to keep removing your mask, so you can stay as is. ”

Lena provides a demonstration; Kara mimics the salute only a split-second behind. 

“Now get into the _en garde_ position I showed you,” Lena orders. Kara moves accordingly, and Lena gives her a nod of approval. “Good. Any more questions before we start?”

Balanced on the balls of her feet, Kara can feel adrenaline begin to course through her veins, and it might as well be the first tipoff of a game; fresh and exhilarating. It’s only been a week since her season ended, but man, she missed this feeling — the electricity of competition.

It only takes one word to sell her soul. “Nope.”

“Alright, then. When you want mercy, darling,” Lena smirks. “Feel free to _beg_ for it.”

Oh, fuck. Has Kara ever mentioned that Lena Luthor might actually be the hottest person she’s ever seen?

“Lena, I _am_ a Division I athlete, you know,” Kara objects, watching as Lena’s face disappears behind her own mask. “I should be able to hold my own at least a little bit.”

She is so, so, so wrong.

“Oh, god,” Kara exhales. “That actually hurts!”

“Yes,” Lena states, a bit incredulous. “What did you expect?”

“I don’t know,” Kara pouts beneath the mask. “Like a tickle or something?”

“A tickle,” comes the most unimpressed voice Kara’s ever heard. “Unbelievable.”

“Well I don’t think that anymore!” Kara adds.

“Good,” Lena says, and Kara can picture the exact self-righteous smile that certainly lies under Lena’s helm. “Are you alright to continue?”

Kara regrets the words before they even leave her mouth. “Bring it on, Luthor.”

By absolutely no surprise, Lena wins their first bout, scoring fifteen hits to Kara’s none.

“Oh, wow,” Kara exhales. “This is way harder than it looks.” It doesn’t help that one of her arms is bound, but even with the ability to balance better, Kara doubts it would make much of a difference in the face of Lena’s onslaught.

“It is,” comes Lena’s smug voice. “I hope that demonstration was sufficient to show you that fencing is _vastly different_ than beating on Alex with a plastic sword.” 

Kara winces slightly — oh right, she did say that. And of course Lena didn’t forget.

“I fully retract my comment about the Halloween decorations,” Kara says.

“Thank you. And for what it’s worth, you’re not doing poorly,” Lena offers. 

“Really? I feel like a human punching bag.” Kara scoffs in disbelief.

“If I’m not mistaken, you actually volunteered for this at one point,” Lena says. “Something about having ‘a willingness to get beat on without mercy’?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Kara grumbles, but it’s all in good-humor. It’s actually quite exciting and endearing to see Lena so in her element like this — and her absolutely dominant show of skill is incredibly hot to witness.

“You’re just not confident enough in your movements,” Lena explains. “To win the point, your need to hold priority, and you establish that by being aggressive and assured in your advance.”

Kara nods, which feels a little silly under her mask. “Okay, got it. I’m ready to try again.”

They each get set again in their starting positions, Kara standing on the line that Lena had pointed out to her, and then they salute the other with their sabres.

“Prêts? Allez!” Lena starts them off, and honestly, having to listen to Lena speak in French feels a bit like sabotage to Kara.

Despite the mental incursion, Kara actually notches a hit this time. Just a single hit, but she’s proud of it — it’s an improvement.

“Alright, Danvers,” Lena gives Kara a nod of approval, somewhat lost in the mask. “Ready for a water break?”

This might not be a basketball game, but Kara knows what it sounds like when her opponent is getting fatigued and winded, and honestly, she could keep going and going still. It’s an advantage she’s happy to capitalize on.

“Nah, let’s go for another first,” Kara requests, her mask hiding her smirk. “This is great! I’ve got _so_ much energy to burn.”

“Very well,” Lena says sharply, clearly trying to keep her breathing as even as possible.

Kara’s gambit pays off. She actually manages to land four solid blows against Lena. To be honest, Kara’s actually pretty proud of it too — Lena is an _incredibly_ good fencer, winded or not.

“I’m impressed, Kara,” Lena informs her at the end of the bout. “You have promise.”

“Well,” Kara chuckles, watching as Lena sets her sabre down and walks closer. “I have a good teacher.”

“Still, you’re holding your own against a former A-ranked fencer,” Lena says. “That’s no small feat for someone unranked.”

“Ah, it’s just because she’s got the hots for me,” Kara jokes. “And I assume that’s the highest rank, since my girl’s a _championship_ fencer and all?”

There’s a pause as Lena rolls her eyes. (At least, that’s Kara’s assumption; that’s certainly what the rest of her body language indicates.)

“I’m going to take your mask off,” Lena informs her, now dangerously close. “Bow your head down a little.”

Kara does as requested and she’s rewarded with the fresh, cool air against her cheeks. Ah, that feels good.

“God, you’re sweaty,” Lena remarks, gently pushing a few fly-away hairs back towards Kara’s ponytail, a small grimace on her face.

“Thanks,” Kara says. “And sorry, I think it’s a downside from basketball. The instant my heart rate starts to spike, my body goes right into ‘heavy-duty’ exercise mode, so — _sweaty_.”

“It’s a good thing I don’t actually mind it then,” Lena responds, pulling off her own mask. She stands upright, her braid whipping out, and Kara suddenly has a Problem™ in her pants.

A few wisps of raven hair have escaped from the braid, falling to frame her face, whilst also clashing vibrantly against her immaculate white uniform. Lena’s eyelids are closed amid a long blink. Pink shines across her cheeks, right where Kara’s lips need to be — desperately.

Kara lets her sabre slip from her hand, and it hits the floor with a dull clang. Lena looks up at her curiously. “Kara?”

Rather than answer, Kara shows her; her gloved hand wraps right around the back of Lena’s neck, pulling her in for a controlled yet heated kiss.

“You’re amazing,” Kara whispers into her lips. “You’re so skilled and hot and confident like this and I’m so in awe of you.”

(If the owner of the fencing club asks, no, they didn’t make out for way too long in the middle of the training room — even if that’s more than a tiny lie.) They do eventually break apart though to rehydrate. 

Kara feels noticeably more refreshed afterwards. She’s used to chugging water in considerable quantities, and it’s a skill that just keeps on giving. Lena, on the other hand, takes her time with her drink and Kara finds herself seeking out greater stimulation.

“So why sabre?” Kara asks. “Why not the other ones?”

“Well, I actually started in foil,” Lena explains. “But once I tried sabre, I fell in love with it.”

“How come?”

“Sabre is the fastest combat sport around. It’s all about speed and athleticism,” Lena explains, and Kara can’t help but notice the light in her eyes as she speaks. “And it’s aggressive too; defense is less of an emphasis.”

“Mm,” Kara hums. “I’m kind of surprised you like that it’s so aggressive. I would’ve thought you would’ve been a more defensive, ‘tactics-are-important’ kind of person, with your background in chess and all.”

“A fair assumption,” Lena admits. “But a girl needs her thrills. Tactics are always important, but honestly, I loved that sabre was a bit wild and untamed. So much of my childhood was spent playing defense against my own family — constantly on guard, thinking through every move — that it was nice to have an outlet where I didn’t have to maintain that.”

Kara nods sympathetically, a soft smile on her face as she gazes at the amazingly strong woman across from her.

“I’m glad you found it then,” Kara tells her. “Speaking of your family … how’s Lex?”

“I don’t really know,” Lena sighs. “He’s annoyingly smug about the fact we’re dating now, but otherwise we’ve only discussed business.”

Kara nods. “Did you ever talk to Sam about his—” Kara taps the side of her nose, “—you know, problem?”

“Briefly, but to be honest, she sounds just as terrible as Lex does,” Lena rubs at her forehead. “They’re both clearly overwhelmed, but Lex refuses to let me get involved and assist them.”

“Did he say why?” 

Lena scoffs. “He’s always loved playing the martyr,” she says. “And sharing has never been a particular strength of his either.”

“Maybe he’s just trying to protect you,” Kara offers. “You—”

“—I don’t require his protection,” Lena states. “Nor anyone else’s.”

“Don’t I know it,” Kara mumbles, a clear insinuation at her and Lena’s recent duals. “I didn’t mean to overstep, I just meant maybe it’s not a bad thing for you to take a step back from your family’s company right now.”

“Do tell.” 

It’s a dangerous challenge and Lena might as well have her sabre back in her hand and pointed at Kara’s throat.

“Not because of what Lillian did,” Kara quickly assures. “I kinda thought this before all of that. You being less involved in Luthor Corp — just while you’re still in college — could be a good thing because you get to just … be a kid.”

“Be a kid?” Lena raises an eyebrow. “Kara, we’re both well into adulthood.”

“Not really,” Kara’s lips twist. “Only by what, two, three years? People don’t magically become adults overnight. Youth isn’t a bad thing either — it’s _fun_ to act like a kid again.”

“Maybe in Kara Danvers’ world,” Lena says. “But not in mine. The world’s always watching, Kara, and Luthors cannot afford to make a single mistake. Especially not now.”

“Is it though?” Kara challenges. “You kissed me at an event attended by thousands of people, and nothing bad happened. _Nothing_ happened, really. National City is different from Metropolis — you once told me that yourself. Why do you think something’s going to go terribly wrong now?”

Their eye contact breaks apart as Lena drops into a long silence.

“… Because I have something to lose now.” Lena stares off into the distance for a moment before meeting Kara’s gaze with wet eyes. “Do you know what I thought when leaving Gateway City to come back here?”

Kara shakes her head.

“That I was ready to come _home_ ,” Lena rasps. “For the first time since I was four years old, I considered a place _home,_ Kara, I—”

Her voice shatters in the open air.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Kara promises, taking Lena into her arms — well, arm. Their fencing kits bump awkwardly against each other but Kara doesn’t care, she just holds Lena tighter to compensate for the padding between them. 

Lena burrows her face into Kara’s neck and it stings her heart in the most pure way.

“It’s okay to be scared and nervous. But Lena, that makes me _so happy_ to hear,” Kara murmurs into the side of her head, as Lena buries her face deeper. “You deserve to feel at home. You deserve this.”

Lena doesn’t respond, but Kara can feel her body soften under her spread palm; they just stay like that for a while, Kara wrapped around Lena in a cradle of safety.

“Let yourself be a kid, Lena,” Kara whispers. “Let’s do this every weekend: fuck around, play sports, go to the bar with friends, and then head _home_ together at the end of the night.”

Lena sniffles and pulls away from Kara so they can see each other’s faces again. “You paint a pretty picture, Danvers. But that’s all it is.”

Kara smiles softly as Lena blinks away the tears in the corners of her eyes. They don’t spill over, but they were undeniably there, and Kara’s reminded again of what it feels like to see Lena cry — it’s the itch of a wound healing, unpleasant and yet a gift all at the same time.

“It’s not just a picture, Lena,” Kara says. “It’s possible; you know that right? There’s no reason you can’t have that in some way, shape, or form. You just have to let yourself.”

Lena lets out a short hum of irritation. “If you’re going to bring up annoyingly valid points, could you at least have the decency to wait until after our date has concluded?”

Kara gives her a soft chuckle and adopts a tone dripping in sarcasm. “I’m sorry, how unforgivably rude of me. How _ever_ can I make it up to you?”

“Well,” Lena shoots her a coy look, the personification of temptation, save only the red tinge to her eyes. “How about another round? I could use a good outlet before tonight.”

“I can do that,” Kara nods. “And for what it’s worth, you’re going to do great. It’s just going to be another fun, regular night at Al’s.”

Lena shoots her a look of healthy skepticism. “Oh yes, just like any other night of meeting the friends of your enemy turned fuck-buddy turned girlfriend.”

Kara’s eyes narrow in the face of her inevitable defeat. “Fair point. Though, I will say — minor life crisis aside — you’ve been practically glowing all afternoon; you look so in your element here. And so if fencing is something you’d like to get back into, I’m happy to keep getting beat on, for more than just today.”

Lena pauses for a moment before responding, regarding Kara with a look close to disbelief. “Really?”

“Really, yeah,” Kara nods. “Instead of fuck-buddies, we can be fencing-buddies!”

“I’m not sure that’s a promotion you’d enjoy,” Lena chuckles softly. “And while I do appreciate you volunteering your services …”

“You’d like a bit more of a challenge?” Kara guesses. “Thank god! Not that I can’t hang, but you hit hard, Lena.”

“Here I thought you liked things _hard_ , darling?” Lena tilts Kara’s chin up with her gloved hand and shoots her a look that leaves Kara breathless long before their workout resumes. “Now; ready to go again?”

“That’s not very nice,” Kara pouts.

Lena bites her lip as she smiles, stepping closer to press a kiss right below Kara’s ear.

“All’s fair in love and war, Danvers,” Lena whispers, and a shiver runs down Kara’s spine. “This just happens to be both.”

* * *

Lena’s not nervous.

Lena Luthor doesn’t get nervous. And certainly not over something so trivial and inconsequential as meeting a bunch of fellow college students, that she kind of already knows. Even if they are friends with Kara Danvers. It’s no big deal.

Oh, who the fuck is she lying to?

She’s changed outfits an unprecedented amount of times. It’s a wonder her fingers are still attached to her hands, given how tenaciously she’s been pulling on them. She’s tried like four different hairstyles, each worse than the next, before surrendering to let her straight-iron pressed hair just hang loose over her shoulders.

And the worst part? Lena’s ex had a child — a whole-ass _child_ — and she was less nervous to meet Ruby than she is now at the prospect of meeting Kara’s friends. ( _Probably because she’d already befriended Ruby prior to officially dating her mother_ , the still-calm and rational part of Lena’s brain points out.)

There’s no such advantage here, really.

“Hey, babe,” Kara greets, poking her head into the bathroom door frame. “You almost ready?”

“Yes,” Lena says. 

No. Not at all.

“Oh, wow …” Kara trails off, gawking at the mess over the vanity — Lena’s makeup, hair brushes, and products uncharacteristically strewn all over the place in her nervous fervor. “… Lena, everything okay?”

“It’s fine,” Lena huffs, dabbing at her lipstick-laden lips. “Just a … work in progress.”

“Lena. You look _beautiful_ ,” Kara says, wrapping her arm around Lena from behind. Kara’s sling presses reassuringly against Lena’s back. Kara tilts her head to the side, looking straight ahead over Lena’s shoulder. “Look.”

They both soak in the vision of themselves in the mirror.

Lena doesn’t have her heels on yet, so the height difference is more pronounced than she likes to remember it as. Kara’s hair is wavy where Lena’s is straight, tanned skin against pale, and Kara’s simple white t-shirt contrasts sharply with Lena’s ornate, lacy black top. Kara looks so utterly relaxed and _casual_ that Lena allows a single drop of it to bleed into her bones.

“We really do make a hot couple,” Kara states.

Lena can’t deny it; they do complement each other in the best way. It’s the dichotomy — gold and black, hard and soft, the sun and the space that frames the stars.

“It’s going to be okay,” Kara soothes, whispering low into Lena’s ear. One of her thumbs rubs little soothing swipes over Lena’s stomach. “They’re gonna love you. I do. And I don’t know how you managed to win over Alex so quickly, but she’s got your back too.”

“Alright,” Lena inhales, trying to absorb a little more of the resolute confidence emanating off Kara. “Alright. I’m ready. I’ll help you into your jacket and then we can go.”

They’re the last of the women to arrive at Al’s.

When they walk in, Lena does a deep scan of the entire bar while Kara grabs them both drinks. It doesn’t take long to find the rest of their party; the three women are over by the dartboards, engaged in a game. Alex nods her chin up at Lena when they make eye contact across the room.

“Lena,” Kara calls her attention back. “For you.” 

She hands Lena a glass of scotch and Lena’s grateful — both to have something to keep her idle hands busy, and for the liquid courage it’ll provide.

“Thank you. I think your friends are playing darts,” Lena informs Kara, taking a large gulp of scotch. It burns and Lena welcomes the feeling.

Anything to distract her from the pounding of her heart and the fluttering in her stomach. The only small comfort Lena is afforded is the knowledge that Jack and Andrea (under threat of death) won’t be around tonight to witness this.

Kara breaks out into a huge grin as she spots her people, raising her drink up in salute. To Lena, it feels like the gun shot at the start of a race — a distinct reminder that it’s too late to back out now, and to reach the finish line, she can only go forward.

And go forward, Lena does.

“ ‘sup Little Luthor,” Maggie greets her first. They shake hands, but it’s friendly and casual. No matter how annoyed Lena might’ve been at the timing of their first meeting, with her tongue somewhere inside Kara’s mouth at the time, she’s now infinitely grateful for the familiarity between them.

“Hey,” Alex nods. She’s got her classic stoic expression on, and the matching leather jacket to accompany her badass aura, but her eyes glimmer with an affection that helps Lena’s ribcage loosen up a little.

But then Lena runs out of familiar faces.

(Kind of.)

There really isn’t an adjective Lena knows to describe the dynamic of ‘ _we were adversarial strangers for the past three years, then I started to sleep with your friend, she talked about you a few times, and then you saw us making out after you both won a national championship’._

So ‘unfamiliar’ is what Lena opts for instead.

“Lena, this is Lucy Lane,” Kara’s voice comes somewhere from her side, but Lena’s already making eye contact with the woman in question.

She’s intimidatingly attractive, with sharp cheekbones and an assurance to her frame that runs deep, but she’s also smaller than Lena would’ve thought, even putting both their heels into consideration. 

It humanizes her a bit and Lena’s grateful.

“Lena Luthor,” Lucy regards her with narrowed hazel eyes, sharp enough to pierce through the kevlar of Lena’s emotional walls.

“Lucy Lane,” Lena says, ignoring how deeply unnerving their prolonged eye contact is. She holds her hand out and Lucy takes it in a very firm grip.

Lucy’s lips part and Lena braces herself for whatever is coming next — some insult about her family, a death threat to protect Kara’s heart, or some other fun scenario that Lena has yet to conjure up.

“Guilty as charged,” Lucy says instead, a guarded smile across her face. “You cost me some money, you know.”

The relieved chuckle slips from Lena’s lips before she can even think. “You shouldn’t have bet against me then.”

“Fair enough, Luthor,” Lucy chuckles too. “But what is twenty bucks for my best friend’s happiness? Water under the bridge.”

Kara’s happiness. It’s a foreign concept to Lena’s ears even though she’s been living it — it’s something she never in a million years would’ve expected to be the cause of. Frustration, disappointment, heartbreak, sure. But not happiness.

And yet, here they are.

“Yeah, wait,” Kara pipes up, brow crinkled. “Mags told us you made a betting pool!”

“I did,” Lucy says without apology. “You wouldn’t tell us who your ‘hot girl bummer’ was, so it was fair game. You know the rules.”

“That’s not a real rule,” Kara grumbles.

 _Oh, because you have such a healthy respect for rules, darling?_ Lena thinks to herself.

Maggie smirks into the lip of her beer. “Feel free to pay up at any time, Lane.”

Clearly prepared, Lucy pulls a folded twenty-dollar bill out of her front jean pocket and hands it to Maggie with a bitter expression. “Don’t waste it, Sawyer.”

“We won’t,” Alex says, plucking the money from her girlfriend’s fingers to slide down into her own pocket. Maggie just sighs and Lena knows that feeling viscerally — it’s the same begrudging resignation that follows every time Kara steals a bit of her food.

Lena leans back a bit, coming to brush up against Kara’s good arm. It’s a moment of weakness, courtesy of her new tipsy state, but Kara leans into the contact out of instinct, and Lena has no regrets.

“Who did you bet it was, Luce?” Kara asks, eyes narrowed in anticipation.

Lucy meets Kara’s gaze with a defiant look. “Veronica Sinclair.”

“Veronica?!” Kara scoffs. “Absolutely not. Never again.”

“Hey, you were dumb enough to do it once,” Lucy says.

“Twice, though? Do you really think I’m _that_ dumb?” Kara’s lips are doing something between a grimace and a pout and Lena wants to kiss them.

“No,” Lucy sips her drink, something dark and bubbly. “You can hope your friends make good decisions, but you can also bet that they’re not going to.”

Hm. An objectively valid and incredibly perceptive point.

It dawns on Lena, for whatever reason, to never allow Lucy Lane to be alone in a room with Jack Spheer, lest she desire to welcome in her own personal apocalypse. The two of them would certainly get along like fire and oil — or Lex and a pharmacy — and the end result would surely be just as disastrous.

“Who did everyone else bet?” Kara asks.

“Winn guessed one of the gym bunnies that are always drooling over you—”

Kara’s cheeks turn bright red. Lena’s half annoyed at the idea of someone else ogling her property (not her _property_ , Kara is her own person, but Luthors do get a bit possessive on instinct, alright?), but she’s also half in agreement with said ‘gym bunnies’. (Lena has eyeballs — she _gets_ it.)

“—Jimmy thought it was a professor, to explain all the secrecy—”

Certainly not a healthy scenario, but Lena admits, she can see the illicit appeal.

“—and Mike said Siobhan Smythe.”

Lena rolls her eyes. That bitch again.

“Those are all _terrible_ options,” Kara scowls.

“That’s what I said,” Alex murmurs and Maggie just chuckles beside her girlfriend.

“Well, if you had stuck around that night, you could’ve defended yourself,” Lucy argues. “But instead you two had already snuck off together, I assume.”

“Please, ‘defend’ herself?” comes Maggie’s sarcastic comment. “Like Little Danvers here would’ve done anything other than ramble or confess.”

“I would’ve happily taken the confession,” Lucy offers.

“Actually,” Lena says, surprising even herself. “Kara deserves more credit. I took her to one of my mother’s fundraisers a few months ago. Lillian, of course, was being her usual snide self, so Kara looked her right in the eye and all but told her to go to hell. It was incredible.”

Kara blushes beside Lena and Lena would love nothing more than to smear her lipstick over that pink skin.

“You basically told _Lillian Luthor_ to fuck off?” Lucy gawks. “Shit, Kara.”

“ _Damn_ , Danvers,” Maggie says, in a slightly odd way that makes Lena think it’s some sort of inside reference to something.

“I-I just—” Kara waves her cup around in a nonsensical gesture. “You know.”

Alex shoots to attention. “Oh, you _don’t_ know.”

All four women turn to face her.

“Know what?” Kara asks first.

“With everything going on, I completely forgot to tell you, oh my god,” Alex informs no one in particular. 

Lena and Kara exchange a brief glance of mutual confusion.

“What, Alex?” Lena asks, trying and failing to keep her voice neutral.

“I’m going to assume Lena didn’t tell you,” Alex says. “But you guys need to hear what she said to Leslie after the finals.”

Lena’s heart skips a beat. “Oh, no, Alex, we don’t—”

“—You guys talked to Leslie?” Kara frowns. “When?”

“Wait, _what?”_ Maggie asks at the same time, voice a mixture of confusion and surprise. “Kara’s crazy ex?”

“Yeah, she caught us in the training room tunnel after the finals,” Alex says. “On the way to Mom’s rental car.”

Kara turns her piercing blue eyes on Lena, and despite the facts that — 1) Leslie Willis is several hundred miles away in Star City by now, and 2) one of her arms is in a sling — Kara looks fit for a brawl.

“Did she say something to you?” Kara asks Lena, not remotely bothering to conceal her concern. Lena can practically see Kara’s muscles tense like steel with every millisecond that passes. “What happened?”

“Easy, tiger,” Alex says before Lena can. “I think Leslie’s more scared of Lena than any of us now.” 

Kara’s brow crinkles. “What do you mean?”

“I’d ask if you want to tell them, but I know you won't,” Alex informs Lena, before turning to the rest of the group. “Lena threatened Leslie; if she ever came at Kara again, she’d wait until Leslie got drafted, then buy whatever basketball team she was on, and basically kill her career after.”

This stretch of silence has got to be one of Lena’s least favorites of all time. (And there have been _many_ at the Luthor family dinner table.)

“ _Holy shit_ , Little Luthor …”

Lena grits her teeth. _No one else needed to know that, Alex,_ she hisses to herself. _Especially Kara._

“Naw,” Kara scoffs playfully. “That’s like … millions of dollars. Lena doesn’t …”

Another moment of silence passes, Kara’s goofy smile suspended in time, the realization not yet made.

Alex raises her eyebrows expectantly at her sister.

Maggie silences herself on her beer.

Lucy tilts her head at Kara.

Lena feels ready to die.

And finally Kara slowly turns to look at her, like the way the sun first peeks over the horizon. “… what?”

“It was just an intimidation tactic,” Lena offers.

“No way, it wasn’t,” Lucy calls her out. Her eyes are narrowed at Lena again, chin high like a judge. “Leslie’s got a half-decent nose for bullshit, so if she actually backed down, you must’ve meant it.”

Fuck.

“Really, it was just the heat of the moment,” Lena says, wracking her brain for any feasible excuse Lucy won’t be able to tear apart. “I mean, Lex certainly would b—”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to anyone,” Kara quickly assures. “I just—I’m surprised _you’_ d want to own a basketball team. People might actually start to think you _like it_ or something.”

It’s a clear lifeline and Lena’s eternally grateful. _I love you, Kara Danvers,_ she thinks, _you and that wonderful mind._

“Wait, you don’t like basketball?” Lucy gives Lena an incredulous look.

Kara carefully slings her arm over Lena’s shoulders and pulls herself to Lena’s side. “I’ll make a fan out of her yet, don’t worry.”

(Lena’s objectively already a bit of a fan, but she’s going to ignore that fact.)

“You better, Kara,” Lucy teases. “I might actually like you, Luthor, but that’s a deal-breaker.”

That’s a victory if Lena’s ever heard one.

“Well, I’ve made significant strides, I’d say,” Lena smiles up at Kara, who’s looking at her like an artist’s muse. “And while progress may not be linear, it is inevitable, I’m learning.”

“It is,” Kara agrees, and it might as well be a declaration of love from her tone.

“Okay, this is getting a little too mushy for me,” Lucy interrupts. “I’m still not fully convinced I’m not just having a stroke seeing the two of you getting along, let alone whatever _this_ is. I need to be eased into it.”

Lena doesn’t expect Kara’s retaliation to come in the form of a deep kiss right in the face of her friends, but really, who is Lena to complain?

* * *

The boys — Winn, James, and Mike — arrive a bit later, just as Kara had planned on. They interrupt the current darts game with their usual level of chaos, and it’s clear that the excitement level is a bit too high for any activities involving sharp metal objects. Once Maggie collects the rest of her winnings, she then sets them loose over to Kara.

Kara introduces them each to Lena (again, not that she needs it) and the reactions all vary. 

“This is Winn—”

“Hi!” Winn shakes her hand with a delighted grin across his face. 

“And this is Mike—”

“In the flesh.” Mike postures a bit, a little cocky and almost trying too hard to come off as cool, but it’s all innocent enough. “Good pull, Kara.”

Kara ignores that, hoping Lena doesn’t ask for a translation.

“And this is—”

“James Olsen,” he says, breaking off from Lena’s handshake a little sooner than is considered polite. His tone is curt and abrupt and Kara is taken a bit by surprise.

“It’s nice to meet you, James,” Lena replies anyway, the image of professionalism. “Kara’s told me many wonderful things about you.”

All James offers is a short hum. “Mm.”

That’s a little weird.

Kara narrows her eyes at him, coming to step a little closer to Lena. She’s not sure what exactly is going on, but James usually only gets like this when he’s pissed about something. Maybe he and Lucy are fighting? But Lucy seemed fine as ever earlier, so that seems unlikely.

Kara’s still trying to figure out what exactly is going on when Alex, who has seemed to pick up on the tension too, steps up next to her.

“Why don’t we go sit down?” Alex proposes, slapping a hand down on Kara’s and James’ shoulders. It’s Kara’s bad shoulder, but she hardly notices, too focused on the tight angle of Lena’s jaw.

“Yeah, sounds good,” Kara agrees. She places her arm protectively behind Lena’s back as they walk with the rest of the pack towards the seating.

“You know, we come here so often that this booth is practically ours,” Kara informs Lena. “It’s got my butt-imprint in the seat now and everything.”

“Did you carve your name into it too, Danvers?” Lena teases. Kara takes that as a good sign.

“Oh, I would if I could,” Kara replies truthfully. “But it would make Al mad and I try to avoid pissing off my bartender.”

“A wise life strategy,” Lena agrees.

Lena slows when she sees the booth in question. “Kara, can you actually fit eight people into that?”

“No,” Alex answers, at the same time Kara assures her, “yes.”

“Well, it takes a little creativity,” Kara offers. 

Alex snorts. “That’s one word for it.”

Lena looks at Kara with wary eyes. “It’ll be fine,” Kara promises. 

Without further ado, Kara slides into the left pocket of the booth, motioning for Lena to come in after her. “Sit on my lap.”

“What?” Lena gives her an incredulous look. “You’re joking.”

Kara can tell the resistance is mostly just for show though, because Lena’s had that look in her eyes ever since they started on their second round of drinks — that one where she looks like she wants to climb Kara like a tree — and she’s in motion by the time Kara’s only half-way through her explanation.

“Nope. It’s the only way we all fit,” Kara explains. “I’ll sit on yours if you prefer, but fair warning, I have a bony butt.”

“Fine,” Lena sighs, coming to nestle into Kara’s lap. The pressure is noticeable but the exact opposite of unwelcome.

“Is your arm alright?” Lena asks, leaning forward on the table top to avoid putting pressure back on Kara’s bad shoulder.

“Yeah, you’re fine,” Kara assures. She leaves her drink on the table in front of Lena and drops her hand down to wrap protectively around Lena’s waist.

 _More than fine_ , Kara thinks. _Oh, she could never be anything less than great with Lena Luthor in her lap like this._

Everyone else filters in too. Adjacent from them across the table are James and Lucy in the identical position. Mike sits next to James, and Winn on the end; Maggie slides in on Kara’s side, and Alex caps them off. It’s a tight fit, but it works.

Lena does end up turning slightly in Kara’s lap to lean her back up against the wall, but Lucy stays dead-straight over James’ lap and Kara prefers to not think about why. Though that might be hypocritical of her — it certainly feels like she could pop a metaphorical boner at any time. The heat and the pressure of Lena on her thighs is more than welcome and Kara can feel her blood pressure rise accordingly. 

Has she ever said how nice of an ass Lena has? And that’s definitely not just the alcohol talking.

(It’s a terrible shame Lena vetoed the sex-in-Al’s-bathroom back on day one.)

Once they’re all settled, Lucy gets the descent into chaos started with a drinking game. It’s one that Kara’s played a thousand times, and admittedly, she’s only half paying attention. Lena is _so close_ and smells _so good_ and it’s more than just the alcohol in her stomach that's keeping Kara warm.

Kara can’t help but just lean back and watch Lena interact with everyone. Her friendly jabs at Alex, her polite laughter at Winn’s corny jokes, her brazen challenges against Lucy’s competitiveness, her good-natured groans at Mike’s antics, and her clever retorts to Maggie’s teasing. Even James — who still seems all surly — doesn’t detract from how undeniably perfect Lena fits in here with them.

She’s a natural.

The realization is as sudden and loud as the first horn of war; Kara has _it_. _It_ — the very thing she so desperately craved months ago when she took Lena to meet Barry — _she has Lena and it’s real_. Lena’s really sitting in her booth, here at Al’s, smiling and chatting and joking with Kara’s friends. 

It’s real.

Kara continues to dwell in that happy paradise, swimming laps over and over in the realization that _hey, it’s real and they’re doing it … and maybe, just maybe, with enough work, they can keep it too._

She soaks in her dream, right up until the sound of weightless laugher and Lena’s lilting accent fills her ears, jolting her to the surface.

“You’ve what?!”

Kara can’t believe what she's hearing; it must’ve just been a part of her little daydream. How did this topic even come up during their drinking game?

“I’ve pegged, Kara,” Lena repeats. “My ex-boyfriend is quite secure in his masculinity, and separate of that, also enjoys fucking men in his free time.”

Lena's … pegged? Lena's pegged Jack? Lena Luthor wore a strap-on and … a strap-on around her hips … with straps and all, those distinct black lines crisp against her soft, pale skin?

Yeah, Kara's brain actually shatters, leaving her friends' words to go in one ear and out the other. All she can think about is _Lena_.

“Nothin’ wrong with a little pegging,” Mike chuckles. “Different strokes for different folks.”

“Whatever tickles your pickle, bud?” Winn teases.

“Or whatever fills your hills, Matthews?" Maggie adds.

The chuckling continues, gently coaxing Kara’s brain back together.

"Hey James, you should let Lucy give it a try," Mike deflects. "She’s got that BDE.”

That shuts James up, but the rest of them only laugh harder.

“Wow, Matthews, I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” Lucy jokes. 

“It counts as part of my community service, actually,” Mike retorts, before chugging some of his beer. 

“Hey Lena …” Maggie says, a suspiciously deviant undercurrent to her words. “Keeping with the theme of fun sexual histories, did you know Kara once worked as a poolboy?”

 _Oh, fuck, no, Mags_ … Kara whines internally. _Where is it written in the friend-code that they just **have to** embarrass her in front of her new significant other? _

Mike starts laughing madly, one hand clutched over his pec. “Oh, yes, Sawyer! My favorite.”

“Dear god, _anything_ but this story,” Alex groans.

“If Alex is objecting, I’m intrigued,” Lena says, and Kara’s fate is sealed.

“You’re going to regret asking. Just like I regret ever asking my _idiot sister_ ,” Alex hisses. "To do a favor."

“Woah, okay!” Kara protests. “I thought Ms. Clemens really did hire me to clean her pool! That’s what you said!”

“If you were there to just clean her pool, why would she need to invite you inside?” Alex retorts, and the conversation instantly degrades into sibling bickering. “And why did you follow her in?”

“I was trying to be helpful, Alex!—”

“—Helpful? What did you think was going to happen when—”

“—I don’t know! You’ve seen her though, she’s hot and nice and—”

“—Yeah, I know who my friend’s mother is, Kara! Who you basically reenacted some awful poolboy porno wi—”

“—I’m sorry to cut this short,” comes Lena’s incredulous voice. “But can one of you _please_ elaborate?”

“Yeah, wait, I haven’t heard this one either,” Lucy frowns, leaning forward. “You into MILF’s now, Lover Girl?”

“No!” Kara protests. “It just kinda … happened?”

“What ‘kind of’ happened?” Lena asks, fixing Kara with a taunting, amused glare.

“Okay, so last summer, one of Alex’s friend’s moms needed her pool cleaned, so I offered to do it,” Kara explains. “She was always super nice to me—”

“—Gee, I _wonder_ why,” Alex mutters.

“So anyway,” Kara ignores her sister. “I went over and cleaned it. Once I had finished with her pool, she asked me to come help her put sunscreen on her back. Sunburns are super dangerous, so of course I helped—”

“—Of course you did,” Lucy says with barely-restrained laughter.

Again, Kara ignores the commentary. “We started chatting — she really is a very nice woman — and then she invited me inside for drinks and a tour of the house. Which I guess I should’ve realized sooner, but it wasn’t until she ‘accidentally’ pulled her bikini strings off that I finally got the idea.”

“Uh, _yeah_ , you should’ve realized,” Alex glares at her sister. “The cocktail at two in the afternoon didn’t set off any flags?”

“So you made it through the entire exposition of a porno …” Maggie recaps. “ … before realizing you were cougar prey?”

“I wasn’t cougar prey, _exactly_ ,” Kara objects, huffing air out on the last word. “And even moms deserve to have healthy, fulfilling sex lives.”

It’s Lena that responds this time, voice cool and full of mirth. “Is that why you stayed?”

Kara can feel a furious blush flood her cheeks, even though she’s positive they’re already quite red. With a slightly sheepish look on her face, she answers Lena.

“Well, yeah, I mean … she’s hot and looks great for her age. I thought it would be fun,” Kara says. “And Alex never said _not_ to.”

“Oh, _I’m sorry_ for not specifying,” Alex groans. “I wasn’t aware I needed to!”

“Did you have to wear a poolboy uniform?” Mike asks, way too invested in the story.

“Uh,” Kara swallows roughly. “I-I don’t really remember.”

“Kara Danvers,” Lucy hisses, a huge grin on her face. “You’re such a _shit_ liar.”

Winn’s already dying from his silent laughter, shoulders shaking, but somehow he manages to choke out, “Was it a polo shirt? A white one?”

“Or a speedo?” Mike asks. “I bet it was.”

“Okay!” Kara declares. “Moving on!”

While the rest of the group shifts to discuss why Mike is such a fan of speedos, Lena uses it as the prime opportunity to torture Kara a bit further.

“You know, Luthor Manor does have a pool,” she whispers, too low for anyone else to hear clearly. “Should you ever desire to take care of some other _wet depths_.” 

Kara chokes on her drink.

“You okay, Little Danvers?” Maggie grins right beside her, far more amused than concerned.

“Fine, Mags,” Kara rasps.

Their conversation continues and progresses along with the ease of any other night, minus James’ participation. He just stays tucked into the corner of the booth under Lucy, occasionally shooting a disgruntled look at Lena when he thinks Kara can’t see. Her arm tightens around Lena’s waist automatically.

Oh, he’s definitely being weird, but it fades into the background as Kara’s senses get progressively more overwhelmed by alcohol and excitement.

At one point, Mike makes some ill-advised bet against Lucy, and it results in him buying the next round for the table. Winn and Mike return to the table with their hands full, and everyone grabs their respective drinks as Kara proposes a toast.

“To the friends we find,” Kara grins, drink lofted in the air. She gazes out at each and every one of the people clustered around the table with pointed affection, as her left pinky strokes idly against Lena. “And the family we make.”

“I’ll drink to that any time,” Alex gives her a soft smile and a nod of approval.

“Alright, then. One, two, three, four,” Lucy rattles off. “Comets’ sweep the fuckin’ floor.”

It’s returned with an automatic chorus of “Comets’ sweep the fuckin’ floor!” and then they flow right back into laughter and cheers and conversation.

Later on, Alex rises from the table, water in hand. “Pool, anyone?”

“I’m in,” Maggie sighs. “By contractual obligation only.”

“I’m game,” Lena chimes in. Kara releases Lena from her lap so she can exit the booth.

“You any good at pool, Luthor?” Kara teases, sliding out after her girlfriend.

“Come find out, Danvers,” Lena winks back at her.

“Well, you can’t get any worse than Maggie,” Alex teases, only to get a _how-dare-you_ expression from her own girlfriend.

“If you’re gonna be like that, _babe_ ,” Maggie quips. “Then I’ll take Little Luthor on my team.”

It ends up being an excellent tactical decision on Maggie’s behalf. Like many things, Lena Luthor is a very decent pool player. Maggie is trash as always, and Kara struggles to aim with only one arm, even with the help of a bridge head. It comes down to Alex and Lena; the older Danvers sister may have the benefit of home-field advantage, but Lena is almost impossibly calculated and precise.

“It’s just geometry, Kara,” Lena says coolly, pocketing another ball. 

“I know! I’m a math minor, Lena,” Kara pouts. “I understand the concepts perfectly. It’s just the execution part that I’m currently struggling with.”

She sends a pointed glance down at the sling over her chest, but Lena misses it in the darkness of the bar.

“Wow,” Lena smirks. She takes a few steps towards Kara, grabbing the blonde’s own pool cue. “And to think, I’ve finally found something you’re bad at.”

“Hey, I’m only playing with one arm here,” Kara tries again to excuse her poor performance. “I’m still better than Mags.”

“I can hear you both, assholes,” Maggie pipes up from the other side of the table.

“Oh sure,” Lena shakes her head. “Blame the poor sling.”

“I will,” Kara sticks her tongue out.

“Careful, darling,” Lena murmurs, too low for Maggie and Alex to hear. “You stick that out again and I’ll be liable to put it to good use.”

Kara plays even worse after that. 

After the game concludes and drinks have been polished off, Maggie and Alex break for the bathroom. Lena returns the cues, then makes to head back to their booth, when Winn sticks out an arm to stop her. Kara catches the motion and strolls over right behind her.

“I wouldn’t go over there right now,” Winn informs Lena. He shoots a nervous glance to the side, back at their booth, which is currently occupied by only Lucy and James.

One look and Kara knows instantly why Winn’s stopped them.

Lucy’s got her arms folded, propping her up forward against the table, and there’s a very intense set to her jaw as she speaks. Kara can’t see James’ face, but she doesn’t need to. It’s quite clear that he and Lucy are mid-argument over something … and Lucy is very much dominating.

Kara thinks she could probably reliably guess the subject. So James was _definitely_ acting weird tonight, it wasn’t just her imagining things.

“Lucy and James are, uh, having a small disagreement,” Winn explains to Lena, retracting his arm now that the woman’s path has halted.

Kara presses up against Lena’s back, sticking her head over the raven-haired woman’s shoulder to join in her conversation with Winn. Lena stiffens for a split-second, but then leans backwards into the touch once she realizes it’s just her girlfriend, and Kara deems it safe to slide her thumb into one of Lena’s front pants pockets.

“Oh, Lucy’s yelling at James, right?” Kara asks Winn, cautiously eying the booth. When he nods, she tells Lena, “You can tell from her body language.”

Winn shivers for added effect.

“Voice of experience?” Lena asks no one in particular. Winn gulps and nods.

“More than I’d like to admit,” Kara chuckles. “Winn’s right — you don’t want to be anywhere near that.”

Lena nods in acceptance of their words. “Thanks for the save,” she tells Winn.

Winn smiles. “Happy to help. Actually, I hope you don’t mind, but one of the comp sci professors mentioned you’re an amazing coder. I have this project I’ve been working on, and I’d love to get your take on it …?”

Having heard more than enough about Winn’s various coding projects already, Kara’s mind instantly takes a step away from the conversation — but judging by Lena’s intrigued smile and twinkling eyes, this is what they’re talking about now.

Fine. When Lena looks this hot, Kara only hears about half of any given conversation anyway.

“Sure,” Lena nods. “Tell me more.”

Winn beams. “Well, it’s about logic loops and—”

“—Why don’t we take this outside?” Kara quickly suggests. “It’ll be quieter.”

Even if Kara Danvers has been graced with a decently apt intelligence, she still knows a boring topic when she hears one, and if she’s going to be subjected to it, she might as well get to enjoy the beautiful night air as a consolation prize.

So they end up sitting in the corner of Al’s outdoor patio, three chairs arranged to face each other, a bit removed from the more crowded patio center. Lena and Winn quickly enter a spirited conversation while Kara decides her attention is better delegated amongst three tasks; nursing her drink, watching the various city-goers pass by on the other side of the patio fence, and thinking about how pretty Lena looks tonight. (And always.)

Mike joins them next, perching on the arm of Winn’s chair. He and Kara break off into their own side-conversation about Clark’s latest game and the Meteors’ championship chances (high, of course). There’s a decent chance the Meteors could end up competing against the Gateway City Valors — Mike’s hometeam — who are having a rather impressive season of their own. The conversation devolves into a small amount of friendly shit-talking.

(The Meteors would win, obviously.)

Alex finds them a bit after, plopping down into her sister’s lap without a moment’s hesitation or warning.

“Hey!” Kara protests, holding her empty cup above her head out of instinct. “You’re heavy.”

“Suck it up,” Alex tells her. “You didn’t complain the entire hour that Lena just sat in your lap for—”

Fair point.

“—and besides,” Alex says. “I brought you a gift.” She then hands Kara a fresh can of beer, cracking it open as she offers it forward.

“You’re a wonderful sister,” Kara tells her, taking it.

“Hey heathens,” Lucy greets them all last, noticeably alone. “Alana needs more for flip-cup, anyone interested?”

Mike asks the obligatory, “Where’s James?”

“Being beat,” Lucy responds, and even drunk, Mike knows from Lucy’s tone to accept that as the clear end of the conversation.

“I’m down for flip-cup,” Kara volunteers. She rises to her feet, pushing Alex off of her in the process.

“Yeah, me too,” Alex says, only slightly disgruntled at her eviction. She and Kara exchange a brief look; maybe during the heat of competition they can get Lucy to spill about whatever’s pissed off James.

“I’m in too,” Mike chimes.

“Great,” Lucy says. “Come on, we’ve already got it all set up.”

“Lena,” Kara turns back to her girlfriend. “You want in?”

“No, that’s alright,” Lena declines with a smile. “I’d prefer coding to cheap beer any day of the week.”

“I’m not surprised,” Kara chuckles. “You two have fun. Don’t nerd out too much.”

“Oh, please, you’re the biggest nerd out of all of us,” Winn retorts. He turns to Lena with a conspiratorial smile across his face. “You do know she is, right?”

“Without a doubt,” Lena smirks. “But do tell me more.”

Kara leaves them with one last smile — a declaration of love for Lena, and a request of mercy from Winn.

* * *

Winn continues to chat with Lena for a good while. 

Their coding discussion is the main topic, but Winn does provide Lena with some useful tidbits of Kara’s well-hidden nerdiness that she’s certain to capitalize on later. Only when Winn splits to head to the bathroom does Lena find herself alone for the first time all night, finally able to catch her breath.

It’s short-lived, but Lena doesn’t mind the new company. 

“How you holding up, Little Luthor?”

Lena looks up to see Maggie Sawyer plopping down into Winn’s recently vacated seat. 

“Well,” Lena nods on instinct.

“Here,” Maggie says. She props her feet up on the third chair — the one facing away from the patio — and holds out a fresh glass of amber liquid. “Figured you could use another.”

Lena smiles softly down at the drink as she takes it. 

“Thanks,” she says, taking a subtle whiff. Sure enough, it’s scotch. “I’m a bit surprised you remembered.”

“Are you kidding?” Maggie scoffs, an amused grin across her face. “You’re an underage white girl at the bar drinking something other than a hard seltzer or a vodka cran; it’s memorable.”

Lena chuckles and takes a sip. “Fair enough.”

“Besides,” Maggie says, tone slipping down to something a bit more serious. “Scotch was Alex’s favorite before she stopped.”

Lena hums, but doesn’t say anything else. She’s sure her silence will tell Maggie that she knows enough.

“Last thing you want to be tonight is sober,” Maggie says. “This group doesn’t exactly pull our punches.” 

“I’m used to it,” Lena remarks. “That’s why I’ve been keeping Kara far away from my own friends recently. I can’t even fathom the chaos …” 

“Eh, there's no rush to get them together. Do it when you’re ready,” Maggie advises. “But when you do, know you’ve got nothing to worry about. Everyone _loves_ that girl.”

“Oh, I’m aware. It’s a little annoying, right?” Lena asks, smiling into her scotch all the same.

“Very annoying,” Maggie agrees. “So what do you think of it all?”

“Of what? Kara?”

“Of the circus,” Maggie jokes. She uses her beer to gesture over to the rest of the group across the patio, currently engaged in flip-cup, full of flushed faces and raucous laughter. “It’s a lot all at once, I know.”

The gravity under Maggie’s light-hearted tone jogs Lena’s latent memory; Kara had once mentioned Maggie had transferred in to NCU — which meant, much like Lena, she didn’t start out immediately immersed in this natural chaos.

“It’s a lot,” Lena admits, sucking on her teeth. “But … is it bad that I kind of enjoy that?”

“Not at all,” Maggie chuckles. “You know, when I first transferred here from Gotham State, Alex and I butted heads a lot. I came in determined to be on my own and not need anyone, but NCU’s team culture was very different than what I expected — it’s _actually_ like a family. I fought it, but eventually the Danvers wore me down, and before I knew it I was one of them, as if I had been my entire life.”

“They’re … quite talented at that,” Lena says, thinking of her own speedy assimilation over the past month. 

“Yeah, they are. You were a good sport about us ragging on Kara so much tonight,” Maggie offers.

“Oh, please,” Lena snorts. “Kara’s ego could use a few more reality-checks. I wouldn’t want anyone to stop on my account.”

Maggie chuckles. “Alex told me how you put Little Danvers in her place the other day, after J’onn caught her in the gym. Sounds like you had some fun with it.”

“Mm,” Lena hums. “Perhaps a small amount.”

They share a look of mutual amusement over their drinks, and Lena feels a strange fluttering warmth in her gut. But it doesn’t scare her off. And maybe it’s just because of the way Kara grins back over at her and Maggie, face dripping with beer and unquantifiable love in her eyes, that makes Lena alright with it. 

Or maybe it’s just Lena starting to accept that there’s a world in which she gets to have _this_.

“So, what do you think of everyone?” Maggie asks. It would be easy enough to misconstrue as simple conversation, but Lena sees it for what it truly is — a test of Lena’s bravery, to be bold enough to answer honestly.

Lena wouldn’t usually play her cards so openly, but there’s something about Maggie Sawyer in which she finds a trustworthy kindredness. The bond of the black sheep, perhaps.

“Alex is terrifying as always, but I’ve realized it’s less to do with how she acts and more about who she is to Kara,” Lena frowns in thought, idly swirling the liquid in her glass. The ice clinks softly. “I can’t imagine Kara would ever be able to have a successful relationship with someone Alex disapproved of.”

“Well, siblings are a given,” Maggie nods. “Little Danvers is practically a human puppy dog and I was scared shitless when she found out about Alex and I. What do you think of Lane?”

“She’s … intimidating,” Lena admits. “In her own way.”

Maggie takes a big swig of beer. “Yeah, it’s the look in her eye.”

Lena knows exactly what look Maggie's talking about; it’s piercing, calculating, and just a little bit inclined to drastic action. There’s a determination to Lucy that borders on arrogance, and a tongue just as sharp.

“But once you realize Lane’s nothing but a competitive daddy’s girl with a caffeine addiction, it fades,” Maggie continues. “Unless something actually pisses her off, of course. Did you see what she almost did to Leslie during the finals?”

Lena lets out a sharp exhale through her nose. “It was hard to miss.”

“Yeah, well, it just goes to show you, Lucy thinks more with her heart than her head, but luckily her heart’s usually in the right place,” Maggie says. “Not unlike Kara.”

“Is that why they get along so well?” Lena asks. At that precise moment in time, the two women in question throw their hands up in celebration of something, whooping loudly.

“That, and that it’s just who they are,” Maggie says. “Kara can see the best in just about anyone. But I’m sure you already knew that, since you’re here right now and not just driving her insane from a distance anymore.”

Lena’s not really sure how to respond to that, but she certainly can appreciate Maggie’s constant candor, and it’s enough for her to feel comfortable asking the question that’s been on her mind half the night.

“Maggie,” Lena says. “Does James have a problem with me?”

The only sign that Maggie’s caught off-guard by Lena’s question is the slight hesitation as she pulls her beer away from her lips. “Why do you ask?”

“I’m not a fool; I can tell when someone’s not my biggest fan,” Lena states. “I just can’t tell if it's because he and Kara used to date, or because of my last name.”

“Mm,” Maggie grimaces as she swallows more beer. “Honestly, I don’t have an answer for you. James has been acting a little weird all night — pretty sure that’s what Lucy was yelling at him about — but I don’t know why. If I had to guess, Kara doesn’t either; she’s been giving him the crinkle all night.”

Lena swallows roughly. Of course. A small part of her does recognize she practically ushered in this exact scenario, back at her hotel in Gateway City, when she’d accused Kara’s friends of all being hopeless optimists. She’d readily take back that fun little moment of humor-wrapped self-hatred now that she’s faced with her exact wish.

It’s hardly the first time she's dealt with someone’s disapproval or disdain. Lena can handle it. But her usual mask of icy indifference won’t work this time — because she _cares_. James is important to Kara, which means Lena has to care. _Wants_ to care, even.

Yikes.

That realization is a crisis for another night.

“The crinkle?” Lena asks Maggie instead.

“The little line Kara gets in her forehead when she’s thinking too hard,” Maggie gestures to the space between her own eyebrows. “That’s what Alex calls it.”

“Ah,” Lena hums.

“James aside, what do you think of the other boys?” Maggie asks next.

Lena takes a sip of her drink before speaking. “Winn seems like a sweetheart. Mike reminds me a bit of every spoiled, rich white boy that I went to boarding school with—”

“—Let me save you time: he is,” Maggie laughs. “But honestly he grows on you. His family fucked him up pretty good, so he’s had a fair amount to atone for, but he’s gotten a lot better. Even if the execution leaves something to be desired sometimes, the intention is pure.”

Lena can sympathize with atonement. Envy that he’s achieved it, even.

“Little Danvers has been really good for him,” Maggie continues, watching the two in question wrestle for space at the flip-cup table. “And — _don’t tell him I ever said this_ — I think he’s been good for her too.”

“How so?” Lena raises a brow.

“While I don’t know Kara nearly as well as Alex does, I’ve still spent a fair amount of time with the Danvers family. You pick up on things,” Maggie explains. “Kara never talks about her family, or her life before the Danvers adopted her. Even with Alex, really.”

Lena already knew this, but hearing it from a secondary source is oddly reaffirming in the most heartbreaking way. 

“One night last year, Mike had too much to drink,” Maggie explains. “Kara ended up dragging him back to her and Alex’s apartment to take care of him. Alex and I were asleep in the bedroom at the time, but the walls are pretty thin, so the sound woke me up.”

Lena continues to listen to Maggie with great interest, feeling as though she's being gifted a priceless moment in time, one never intended to be captured.

“Mike started to drunkenly ramble about his shitty family while Kara took care of him. I guess he passed in and out of consciousness a lot, judging from the sound,” Maggie continues. “Because every so often, Kara would tell him something about her family. Her biological one.”

“Really?”

“It was just simple stuff — names, birthdays — but I think it was exactly what she needed; someone to talk to but who wouldn’t remember in the morning,” Maggie finishes.

Lena gives Maggie an inquisitive look. “Do you think he actually remembered any of it?”

“I don’t know,” Maggie sips her beer. “That boy knows how to use and abuse his substances like a pro, but I’ve always wondered …” 

“You never mentioned it to Kara?” Lena asks.

“Nah. I didn’t mean to overhear them, and I’d forget it if I could,” Maggie says. “It wasn’t meant for me to hear, but thin walls are part of living in a cheap college apartment, so …”

"C'est la vie?" Lena supplies.

"Así es la vida," Maggie echoes. "But I guess French works too."

“Why are you telling me all of this?” Lena swallows roughly.

“Because something tells me you already know more than most,” Maggie shrugs. 

“Mm.” Lena’s low hum is a stronger confirmation than any words she could offer. She then gives Maggie a critical, appraising look. “You notice more than most, don’t you, Sawyer?”

Maggie shrugs and hides behind another sip of beer. “It’s in the blood, I guess.”

“And what about you?” Lena asks. “You’ve given me quite the dossier on everyone else.”

“Oh no,” Maggie chuckles. “Sorry, Little Luthor, but I won’t be just _handing out_ my tragic backstory. Don’t think I forgot your little extortion attempt weeks ago — ‘nothing in this world is free’, after all.”

“Touché,” Lena smirks, giving the woman a nod of respect. A moment of soft silence passes between them. “If you don’t mind me asking, though; do you ever get used to it?”

Maggie glances over at her with interest. “Used to what?”

“Feeling like …” Lena’s words fail her. “… _this_. Around them.”

“… Yeah, you do," Maggie doesn't ask for further explanation. "Eventually.”

Lena opens her mouth to ask Maggie something else — she’s not even really sure what, but the woman is quite the approachable resource into Kara’s world, and Lena doesn’t want to squander that — but then Alex and Kara are walking right back over to them and Lena clamps her jaw shut.

“Hey babe,” Alex greets, perching on the arm of Maggie’s chair. She has water in her hand still.

“Hey,” Maggie greets, a blinding smile across her face. As soon as it appears, Alex bends down to pull her girlfriend into a deep kiss.

“Ew,” Kara makes a face at them, and Alex responds by raising her middle finger behind her head as they continue to kiss. They break apart only once Alex’s revenge has been significantly enacted.

“It’s last call,” Kara informs Maggie.

“Shit,” Maggie hops up to her feet, glancing at her phone. “I can’t believe it’s that late already. I’m still good for one more.”

“Well, Lucy’s getting another, but Mike’s closing his tab and Winn’s about to order a ride-share,” Kara says, “So I’d hurry if I were you. Don’t wait up for us.”

“Yeah,” Maggie exhales, looking at Alex. “Danvers, it’s go-time.” Alex shakes her head with poorly-hidden affection as Maggie pulls her away, leaving only Kara with Lena.

“Hi,” Kara smiles softly down at Lena, who’s casually peering upwards from her seated position. 

Kara’s cheeks are flushed from the alcohol, and the city lights glint off her blue eyes. A single strand of blonde hair sticks to the side of Kara’s neck. Lena wants nothing more than to peel it away and press a kiss to that skin instead.

Lena smiles. “Hi.” Her cheeks have never burned quite like this before, and it makes Lena wonder just how much time she spent smiling tonight. A lot, it would seem.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Kara asks. She offers out her free hand, long fingers outstretched in a bid to win over Lena’s own.

Lena laces their fingers together without hesitation and rises to her feet, leaving her almost-empty drink behind. “Do you need to close your tab?”

“Already did,” Kara smiles.

“Well then, Danvers,” Lena gives her a sultry smirk. “My place or yours?”

“Yours. Definitely yours.”

Leaving Al’s is easy enough, considering the route they take: over the fence, for old time’s sake. The only person they have to deal with is the bouncer watching them carefully from across the patio.

“We’re being watched,” Lena warns Kara with a sharp tug to her jacket. The blonde’s already got her hand on the fence rail and her body language makes her intent perfectly clear. “We could just go out the front door like normal people, Kara.”

“No! This is _nostalgic_ , Lena. And it’s okay, Chester is cool,” Kara says. “He won’t yell at us. His job is just to make sure people don’t get _in_ this way; he doesn’t care about _out_.”

All the same, Kara delivers a blinding smile and a chin-nod back at the bouncer, and it makes Lena suspect that while Kara’s argument is likely valid, she’s also probably benefitting some from her usual charm.

"We're good," Kara announces.

It only takes the blonde a moment to clear the pavilion fence. It’s annoyingly effortless (and hot).

“Remember the last time we did this?” Kara chuckles, holding a hand out for Lena to use as she hurdles herself over next. It’s much easier this time, since she’s not wearing a dress. “I think my brain almost broke when I saw you straddling the railing.”

Lena pauses to readjust her clothes, never one to look disheveled. “Well, if your brain broke seeing me on _that_ rod, I can’t imagine how strenuous the rest of tonight will be for you.”

Kara’s face flushes almost impossibly redder. “Oh! Oh, I, uh, oh—”

Lena just chuckles and shakes her head. “How you can go from effortless sex goddess to blushing schoolgirl in two seconds, I’ll never understand.”

It takes a moment for her words to reach Kara’s ears, but once they do, the blonde’s face is illuminated by a cocky grin. “Wait, did you just call me a sex goddess?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Oh, you did,” Kara brags. “You definitely did.”

“You’re hearing things, Danvers,” Lena scoffs.

“And you’re saying things, Luthor,” Kara replies, dropping her voice down an octave. “Things I know you mean.”

“So?” Lena challenges. “You can’t prove anything.”

Kara halts, pulling Lena back against her solid body, and gives her a look that makes Lena’s heart jump right down between her legs. “Can’t I?” 

* * *

Kara hasn’t realized until they’re in the midst of it, but it’s been a while since she and Lena have stormed into Lena’s apartment in a flurry of hot, desperate kisses and wandering hands.

She’s missed this.

Neither of them wastes any time in stripping their clothes off. Lena does most of the work for them both, but Kara really doesn’t mind. At all. It’s still a bit more awkward than usual; the sling remains a progressive nuisance — limiting Kara to only one arm to touch Lena with, and fabric separating their otherwise bare chests — but then Lena’s lips are on hers again, and Kara doesn’t really think about it anymore.

Because Lena Luthor is naked in front of her. Naked on top of her. Naked with her.

“Strap tonight?” Lena asks, pulling the aforementioned item out and tossing it over to Kara on the bed.

Kara catches it in her free hand with ease, eyes glued to Lena’s form as the woman slides into bed with a sultry grace.

“Actually,” Kara chews on her lip. “I was thinking … you should wear it. If you’d like to, that is.”

Lena freezes. “Wait, what?”

“I’ve been thinking about it all night,” Kara blurts out. “As soon as I found out you’ve pegged Jack, I just couldn’t get the image of you in the harness out of my head — I was so distracted, I think Lucy was actually about to slap me out of it during flip-cup — but yeah, anyway, I think it would be hot and I’m game if you are.”

“Oh!” Lena’s face flushes. “Oh, Kara, I’ve, never, uh—with a woman.”

“—it’s okay,” Kara assures. “You don’t have to, I’m serious; only if you want to. How does the idea make you feel?”

“Wet,” comes Lena’s blunt response. “But admittedly nervous.”

“That’s good,” Kara grins, a small nervous chuckle escaping from her chest. “W-wet is good. And don’t be nervous; I’ve got you the whole time.”

“I don’t really know what I’m doing,” Lena says. “I didn’t even know you were interested in this …?”

“I’d imagine the mechanics are pretty close to pegging, but it’s okay, I’ll show you what I like,” Kara chuckles. “And I only like it at certain times with certain people, but you’re _definitely_ one of them. Why don’t you lay on your back and I’ll ride you?”

“… okay,” Lena squeaks, wasting no time to get into position.

It starts out slow and awkward and uncertain, but with every minute that passes, Lena grows more and more confident, and Kara’s grin widens.

“You’re doing so good,” Kara exhales. 

Kara’s right hand is braced behind her back, resting between Lena’s thighs to support her weight, the other rendered useless by the sling. Lena’s got two steadying hands on Kara’s hips, shifting slightly with every shared pulse of their hips. 

It’s a precarious position. Kara has to be careful not to jar her shoulder too harshly, nor attempt to use it for balance, so her abs, glutes, and hip adductor muscles are all pushed to compensate — the accompanying burn is pleasant, though. And even if she does push her shoulder a little too far, the alcohol and general horniness will surely override it until the morning.

So she doesn’t mind the danger.

“You’re a natural,” Kara continues. “Oh, fuck, Lena, you’re good at this.”

“This view feels like an— _oh_ —” Lena pants, slightly winded. Her eyes don’t deviate from Kara’s torso, softly combing up and down: from her neck, to her rippling abdomen, down to the place where their bodies meet. “—assassination attempt against my heart.”

“You like it?” Kara asks, sucking on her bottom lip as she rocks faster over Lena’s lap.

“I do.” Lena meets her eyes with a fiery confidence, unapologetic in its strength. “Keep going until you come for me, Kara.”

Well, then. Kara’s not one to deny Lena Luthor, of all people. She does vaguely wonder if she's created an untamable beast of her own destruction, but the instant the peak of her orgasm breaks, it’s a thought long-forgotten.

“Well,” Lena pants after Kara dismounts. “I see the appeal of that.”

“Counts as a workout too,” Kara jokes.

“Mm,” Lena raises an eyebrow. “Part of your workout regimen?”

“Only the fun ones,” Kara winks.

“In that case …” Lena looks up at her through hooded eyes, spreading her bare legs wide in a clear invitation. “Workout with me?”

Kara settles back on her heels, content to soak in the view first. She’s got all night.

“Workout with you?” she gives Lena an insufferably cocky smile that’s sure to rile up the other woman (who already looks quite, er, _riled_ ). “Or work _you_ out?”

Lena scratches her nails down Kara’s abs. “If you’re not inside of me in the next five seconds, I swear I’ll— _fuck_.”

Fencers go for two bouts, and so do they.

“So…” Kara says, long after they’ve broken apart and their heart rates have settled. “Would you do that again? Strapping?”

“Without a doubt,” Lena confirms. “The next time you piss me off for doing something idiotic, I think we could certainly find a cathartic implementation for this interest of yours.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Kara chuckles. “But I’m not sure the suggestion of getting angrily topped by Lena Luthor is a deterrent in any sense of the word.”

“Oh, darling, we both know I’m no top,” Lena jokes. “But a power bottom? Now …”

“The power-iest of power bottoms,” Kara laughs. “Wait, did I just hear you just make a joke? How drunk am I? How drunk are _you?”_

“That information is strictly confidential,” Lena warns, poking a single threatening finger into Kara’s pec. “I mean it, Danvers. You’ll die with that secret, one way or another.”

“The joking or the bottoming?” Kara teases.

Lena hums in thought. “Both,” she decides.

“ _Two_ secrets?” Kara’s eyebrows shoot up, her voice high with mocking incredulousness. “You’re asking way too much of me, Lena.”

“And here I thought you relished a challenge, Danvers,” Lena retorts.

That she does.

They wash up together in a familiar sense of intimacy and routine that Kara would do anything to preserve. 

It’s the little things, really. The way her toothbrush looks next to Lena’s in the holder, or the blonde hair laced among black in Lena’s hairbrush, or Kara’s contacts case tucked into the corner of the bath counter that’s maybe starting to look like it could belong there.

Then there’s the big things too. The way Lena delicately props Kara’s injured arm up with pillows without Kara once needing to open her mouth, or the ginger kiss Lena presses to Kara’s forehead after, or Lena’s face snuggled into Kara’s neck as they cuddle the night away. (Though Kara misses spooning dearly, with Lena’s ass flush against her body in all the right ways, so as soon as her arm is cleared, that’s on the top of Kara’s list to catch up on).

And of course, there’s the biggest thing: the confession of love right before they fall asleep, side by side.

It’s everything Kara could’ve dreamed and more — a sense of comfort and belonging so visceral it might as well be a part of her now. And better yet, after tonight, it truly now transcends the bedroom.

She needs Lena to know.

“Lena?” Kara calls out into the darkness of the room. “You looked … _good_ tonight.”

She can feel Lena chuckle beside her. “Thank you? … god, Kara, are you talking about the strap?”

A heat rushes up to Kara’s face. “No, before that, I mean—well, yeah, you looked _really hot_ , but I—hold on.”

Lena remains silent while Kara takes a deep breath to collect her thoughts.

“What I’m trying to say is,” Kara tries again. “Even though I know you were super nervous about meeting my friends, you did a great job tonight. It felt … natural. I’ve never really blended my personal life and my romantic life together successfully, but tonight? I could actually see it _working_.”

Lena doesn’t respond for so long that Kara starts to shift a little nervously under the bedsheets.

“Lena?”

“Sorry, I was just thinking,” Lena murmurs. “I’ve never … I’ve never really had that either. I’ve always tried to distance my relationships from my family. And my personal life too; well, Jack basically _is_ my personal life, and I think I always kept Sam apart from him and Andrea out of fear.”

Kara rolls her head to the side, crumpling part of the pillow. “What do you mean?”

“Sam was always a very busy woman, and had a whole different set of responsibilities,” Lena explains. “I always appreciated that she was older and more mature. My entire life, I was always expected to act like a grown adult, and Sam fit into that vision — minus the heteronormativity, of course. I suppose I was always worried that if I blended Sam into my personal life, it would compromise that construct of _Lena Luthor_. That she’d start to see me as a child.”

“Again, you know that’s okay, right?” Kara murmurs. “You can still act like one.”

“I already told you,” Lena lets out a single rueful chuckle. “Not when you’re a Luthor. I’m a young woman in one of the most powerful and hated families in the country. Everything I do now can have an impact on my future tomorrow and in ten years. I can’t go around just handing out reasons for people to doubt and discredit me.”

“Who made that rule?” Kara asks. “Because last time I checked, you don’t have a problem breaking the rules.”

Lena scoffs. “It’s not a rule, Kara, it’s just the way the world works.”

“Maybe so,” Kara murmurs. “But respect shouldn’t need to be earned. If later on in life you have to deal with people who don’t respect you because you have fun and enjoy yourself in your free time, maybe they aren’t the kind of people you want to impress.”

“You’re a hopeless optimist,” Lena says. “I know we joke about it, but I actually do have a reputation to maintain.”

“And you’re a cynic,” Kara replies. “I get having to maintain expectations and reputations and all that, I do. Just remember you still deserve to be yourself too.”

Another long silence stretches between them, but it’s still amicable.

“So,” Kara gives her a bashful smile, gently illuminated by the city lights that bleed in. “Did my friends scare you off?”

“Hardly. It’ll take more than a few drinking games to do that,” Lena replies.

“I-I’m glad. So tonight was okay?” Kara asks. “What did you think of everyone?”

“I like them all, truly,” Lena promises. Neither of them bring up James but it’s permitted to go unmentioned by the other.

Kara thanks Lena with a deep kiss, flooded with emotions that can’t be distilled down into words.

“I had fun tonight,” Lena says softly, breaking away. “A lot of fun, actually — what you said earlier? I actually … felt like a kid again.”

“Good, I’m glad, Lena,” Kara says. “You deserve—”

“It makes me feel guilty,” Lena blurts out.

Kara’s brow crinkles, known only to her, Lena, and the darkness of the room. “Guilty?”

“Yes,” Lena exhales. Her breath is slightly shaky and Kara presses a kiss to the side of Lena’s head to soothe it away.

“How so?” Kara asks.

“It goes against everything I’ve been taught my entire life,” Lena confesses. “I feel like I’m doing something unspeakably wrong every time I start to enjoy myself a little.”

“You know it shouldn’t feel like that, right?” Kara murmurs.

“I-I do,” Lena exhales. “But it’s one thing to understand and another to feel. My therapist insists I expect too much of myself.”

“You do sometimes. You need to be patient with yourself,” Kara urges. “It’ll take time to change and heal and that’s okay.”

“I … okay,” Lena concedes softly, burrowing her face deeper into Kara’s neck.

“I’ve got you,” Kara promises. “I’ll always be here for you, Lena.”

“I know you will, Kara,” Lena whispers, for once sounding like she might just truly believe it.

* * *

Sam Arias likes her job.

Loves it, usually. 

Her work ethic, business acumen, and proclivity to call people out on their bullshit and get away with it has allowed her to rise up through the ranks with an unprecedented amount of success. And despite what it might’ve seemed like, her romantic history with her recent boss’s daughter actually did her less favors than if someone had tied cinderblocks to her feet — well, until said boss went and got herself arrested.

So it’s no surprise that what Sam Arias doesn’t love is Lillian Luthor. 

She’s never particularly liked Lillian, not as a contemptuous businesswoman nor as a sorry excuse for a mother, but now after spending her every waking moment assisting with damage control following Lillian’s arrest, she can freely say — Sam Arias really does hate Lillian Luthor.

Now, just like any other night in this well-crafted hell, Sam finds herself at work late, combing over some of the remaining Project Cadmus financial records, only for none other than her _new_ boss (and the biggest pain in her ass) to come barging into her office, on a wordless warpath right over to her whiskey decanter.

“Hello to you too, Lex,” Sam deadpans, sliding her highlighter across the cross-analysis report under her hand. Out of the corner of her eye she can see Lex pour himself a brisk drink with one hand, a manila file clutched in the other.

Lex just waves the file idly in her direction as a greeting, then shoots back the whiskey.

“Don’t get too comfortable; I’m leaving to pick up Ruby soon,” Sam warns. 

“Mm, right, it’s Thursday,” Lex nods. “Club soccer practice ends at seven.”

Sam stops highlighting and gives him an incredulous look. “ _Why_ do you know that?”

“I love supporting youth sports,” Lex retorts. “And soccer’s alright, I suppose, even though it’s no basketball…”

Sam glares at him. “I’m serious.”

“Eidetic memory,” Lex says, pointing his pinky finger at the corner of Sam’s desk. “Three weeks ago, you had it written on a post-it note, right there. It was pink, black pen.”

“Oh,” Sam shakes her head to clear it, maternal alarms disengaged. “So what’s the occasion, Lex?”

“I just got off the phone with the lawyers,” Lex states, setting the now-empty glass back down to refill it. “We have a problem.”

“You say that like we don’t already have a hundred other ones,” Sam says. She gestures with both arms to the piles of paperwork littering her desk. “Can you please explain to me again why you don’t want Lena involved? Maybe there’s an easier way to handle this that we’re missing. You might be the better engineer, but she’s by far the better strategist.”

“No,” Lex shakes his head. “Lena doesn’t know where all the Luthor-family skeletons are buried and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“How noble of you,” Sam sneers. “That sounds too good to be true, so clearly it’s not. What’s the real reason?”

“Fine,” Lex sighs. “I’m not about to spend my first few months as CEO having my baby sister seemingly bail me out. It’s a bad look.”

“You’re never had an issue with Lena bailing you out before,” Sam grumbles, well-aware of the fact Lena has memorized the drive to at least three separate Metropolis Police precincts. “Literally.”

“That’s different,” Lex waves his drink. “That doesn’t count.”

“ _Breaking the law_ doesn’t count?” Sam almost screeches. “God, Lex, you're such a bastard.”

Lex chortles into his whiskey, though there’s not enough for him to hide behind.

“So then what’s this next Cadmus problem?” Sam murmurs, attention shifting back to the report in her hands.

“This isn’t about Cadmus. Though it’s still special-ordered from Mother-dearest,” Lex grimaces as he strolls over to Sam’s desk.

Sam exhales slowly through her nose, kissing the already-small promise of a goodnight’s sleep farewell. “Stop being dramatic, I don’t have the time. What is it?”

She raises her gaze to meet Lex’s, only to find herself a bit unsettled by the genuine distress in his eyes.

“See for yourself,” Lex tosses the file down in front of Sam.

Sam opens the file on her desk with a sharp flip, glaring up at him, already fed up with the theatrics. “Can’t you just use your wor—”

Oh, _shit_.

Of all the papers Sam Arias expected to see as part of her job, _this_ was certainly never one of them. And it's technically not even part of her damn job! It's not a financial document, nor a cross-analysis report, nor something she ever really wanted to even know existed.

Ignorance is bliss, and that shit.

Sam immediately looks back up at Lex, who’s been watching her the entire time with pained anticipation. 

It can’t be real. It has to be some sick, misguided joke of Lex’s under-stimulated mind.

“You’re joking,” Sam states. “I swear to god, Lex, if this is an April Fool’s Day joke, you’re several weeks too late, and also, this isn’t fucking funny.”

“I wish it was,” Lex frowns. “The lawyers found that amongst some of Lillian’s subpoenaed documents.”

Yeah … Sam fucking _hates_ Lillian Luthor.

“Does Lena know?” Sam asks.

“No,” Lex sighs.

“Did _you_ know?” Sam accuses.

“I’ve never seen that paper before in my life,” Lex swears. It’s not an answer, though, and Sam’s maternal bullshit detector starts blaring.

“Try again,” Sam demands. “Did you know about _this?_ The _content?”_ Sam gives the folder an angry shake.

Lex decides his best option is to throw back some more of his whiskey rather than look her in the eye.

“So yes,” Sam frowns. “Unbelievable. Is _this_ why you didn’t want Lena involved in any of the Cadmus clean-up?”

Lex shakes his head. “No, truly. And I didn’t know for certain; it was just a suspicion.”

“You need to tell her,” Sam juts the folder back out at him. “ _Now_.”

Lex's face falls into something terribly dark and harsh. “No,” he growls, snatching the folder back. “And you’d do well to remember — I’m your boss, Arias. _I_ give the orders here, not my subordinates.”

Sam shakes her head at his moment of egotistical outburst. “Then fire me, Lex. God knows I’m tired of cleaning up Lillian’s messes; I don’t care.”

Lex continues to glare at her, but his shoulders deflate with his next exhale, and his reply is softened once more. “I can’t tell her,” he murmurs, clenching his jaw in frustration. “ … I don’t want to, Sam.”

“I don’t care what you want. It has to be you, Lex,” Sam says sternly, lacing her voice with maternal balm to offset the sting. “Because I’m assuming you didn’t just show me this to ruin whatever remains of my sanity?”

“No,” Lex sighs. “It’s going to come out soon. I sent Jess out already to begin damage control with the press, buy us some time, but I don’t think bribery and blackmail are going to work permanently. The lawyers are pushing to use it to help establish Lillian's character in court — both sides.”

“Great,” Sam says, placing her forehead in her palms. “She deserves to know, Lex. And she deserves to hear it from you, not the news.”

Lex looks out the window behind Sam, eyes scanning over the Metropolis city skyline.

“I’m not a good man, Sam,” Lex confesses. “And I doubt I’ll ever be. But I’d like to think I could still be a good brother.”

The moments are few and far between, but Sam does actually feel a pang of sympathy for the Luthor standing before her, looking terribly helpless for a man of his means. It strikes Sam slowly and softly — like finding a deep, unexpected bruise — just how egregiously Lionel and Lillian Luthor have failed both of their children.

“Then you know what you need to do, Lex,” Sam says.

Sam lets out a visceral sigh, embracing her crowning headache. Childbirth might’ve been far more painful, but at least that problem had a simple solution.

“Mm,” Lex hums. “You know, I really regret hiring you, Arias.”

“And I really regret saying yes.”

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't know shit about fencing.


	24. playing games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Worlds continue to collide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I'm a little late on this one, my bad. These longer chapters are quite the time-sink. One that note, the last three chapters are on their way, but updates will be a little slower for that reason; thank you for baring with me. We're almost there!
> 
> Thank you for all the wonderful comments and support along the way, you guys are incredible.
> 
> Warning: brief mention of alcoholism, drug use

* * *

Game Night is a staple of life with the Danvers.

Kara learned that very early on. It was a welcome new tradition, actually, and she bought in with full force. Board games had never really been a part of the El household — her father had always preferred video games, which Kara did enjoy on occasion, but her mother had preferred neither.

But the board games the Danvers had introduced her to? Kara _loved_ it.

It was calm but fun, engaging yet undemanding all at the same time. And it had helped her to assimilate into the Danvers family. To make new and pleasant memories. Game Night had endured many things: the addition of Kara, the loss of Jeremiah, and the life changes of time. 

It was something fiercely important to Kara, so she had brought it with her when she followed Alex to NCU, and it had become one of their hallowed traditions, ranked alongside off-season pickup (basketball), 2AM visits to Bob’s Diner, and — of course — nights at Al’s. 

Given their institutionally-mandated sobriety in-season, Game Night became the perfect way to spend Friday nights in and still have fun. When the off-season finally started, it was usually shifted to Sunday nights, but after spending an ungodly amount of time drinking and celebrating their national championship recently, a rather burnt-out Kara and friends elected to skip Al’s and keep Game Night on Friday for this week — (a limitation imposed in the name of self-restraint and liver preservation.)

But it also became the perfect opportunity to further welcome Lena into the fold without subtracting time away from her hectic homework schedule. What could go wrong, right? It’s everything Kara loves: food, board games, her friends, and her girlfriend. Even the idea of it is all warm and fuzzy rattling around in her skull.

But love can be cruel too. And so of all things, it’s Kara’s favorite game and her two favorite people that combine to bring about her ruin.

It begins slow and soft and gentle. (Well, as much as possible with a bunch of highly competitive people all vying for victory.) Lucy and James are running late, and Nia’s still napping, so they launch Game Night with a soft starter of Settlers of Catan.

Naturally, Alex and Kara end up leading the race, with Lena close behind (it’s her first time ever playing the game, and Kara thinks she’s done amazing, despite what the frustrated crease to her brow would suggest). Maggie and Winn fall in the middle of the pack. Mike, who’s too busy trying to watch the Gateway City Guardians game on the TV to focus, is dead last.

“… Diana Prince is a goddess,” Mike muses, his hand of cards completely slumped forward and visible to the rest of the table. “She could get it any day of the week.”

Maggie and Alex both murmur their agreement, crass as it might be.

“Hey Kara, you think you could put in a good word for me?” Mike asks over his shoulder.

Kara rolls her eyes. “With Diana? Or her _fiancé_ , Steve?”

“Engaged isn’t married,” Winn mumbles, for the express purpose of egging Mike on.

“Whichever one of them would like a trophy husband more,” Mike jokes. “Excels at cooking and partying.”

Kara snorts. “No.”

“Not to detract from Mike’s romantic endeavors, but I’d like to propose a trade,” Lena says, glancing out at everyone. “I’m in need of wheat, and have plenty of ore to offer in exchange.”

Kara glances down at her cards. (Lena needs wheat? Lena will get wheat!) It also doesn’t hurt that Lena, ever the knowledgeable businesswoman, has established an exclusive market as the only person that ever seems to have any ore to trade, and Kara wouldn’t mind having access to some.

She’s not the only one.

“Okay,” Kara and Alex say at the same time. Kara’s head whips up to squint at her sister across the board-covered table.

Lena’s lips press together in a tight, intrigued line. “Alright, let's hear both your offers.”

“One wheat for one ore,” Alex proposes.

“Would you go for two-and-two?” Lena tilts her head back to better appraise Alex.

“I would!” Kara quickly says.

“I would too,” Alex says immediately after.

Kara sees the all-to-familiar quirk of Lena’s lips as she realizes there’s a gambit to be had here.

“Is that so?” Lena hums. “Well, I only need to make one trade. Perhaps one of you would care to tip the scales?”

“Yes!” Kara blurts out. “I’ll add in a kiss — two kisses.”

“Woah!” Winn objects. “No prostitution! House rules still stand, Lena or no Lena.”

“Fine,” Kara sighs, deflating back into her chair. “I’ll add in a wood instead.”

“Alex?” Lena asks, determined to hear out both offers.

Alex frowns at her cards. “Fine. Two wheat and a brick for two ore.”

Kara squints at her sister. She knows Alex’s tells, and it would seem her older sister really wants that ore. And seeing as how they’re both the closest to victory, Kara would really rather prefer Alex be unsuccessful right now.

“I could use the brick …” Lena muses. “Kara? Any counteroffers?”

Kara bolts upright, scanning all the cards in her hand. “Two wheat, one wood, one brick?”

Lena lets out an approving hum that fills Kara with a visceral warmth, making some primal voice deep inside her go, _yes, good._

“Wait,” Alex grimaces. “I’ll give you two wheat and two brick.”

“You two _are_ aware that this is Little Luthor’s turn, right?” Maggie says. “She’s supposed to be selling to _you_.”

“Careful, Sawyer,” Lena warns.

“I know,” Alex grumbles. “But I need the ore. Two wheat, two brick — you said you needed brick. Lena?”

“I do,” Lena says, and nods like she’s about to accept it.

“Wait!” Kara blurts. “Don’t do it!”

Lena turns to face her. The two ore cards that comprise her end of the trade are separate in her other hand. Kara highly suspects if she wants to keep her chances of winning this game favorable, those two cards _cannot_ end up with Alex. 

“Really?” Lena asks, sucking on her teeth. “Why not?”

“Really,” Kara says. “I’ll give you two wheat, two brick, and a wood.”

“Hey, no!” Alex protests. “That’s five cards — that’s your entire hand, Kara. That’s a terrible trade.”

“I know what I’m doing,” Kara says. It’s not entirely inaccurate. Keeping Alex from getting what she wants is a tactic, albeit one only effective in the short-term.

Her intention isn’t lost on Alex. “Okay, Lena,” Alex hisses, not once breaking eye contact with her sister as the true pissing contest begins. “Two wheat, two brick, and two sheep.”

Fuck. Kara can’t up her bid any higher, so the only option is to go low.

“Don’t do it,” Kara pleads with Lena. “If you do, she’ll win. Alex only needs two more victory points.”

“Don’t beg at your girlfriend,” Alex says. “Lena is perfectly capable of making the smarter business decision.”

“I am,” Lena hums, watching them both with amusement. “But I do love it when she begs, Alex.”

Mike, Maggie, and Winn all let out little chuckles, quickly muffled by Alex’s scowl thrown in their direction. Kara takes the moment to quickly pop up, grab a drink from the fridge, and rush back to the table, socks sliding a little against the floor.

“Don’t do it, Lena,” Kara repeats, fixing Lena with the full Kara Danvers puppy-dog pout as she slides back into her chair. “Please?”

The instant Kara places her new beverage on the table, Lena pauses and sets her cards down to twist the bottle open for Kara with an audible crack. It’s not the first time she’s done something like that — to assist with a task that might be difficult without two free hands — in fact, it’s only one of many, many times over the past two weeks, but it fills Kara with the same warmth as ever.

“Thank you,” Kara murmurs, taking the drink from her girlfriend’s offered hand.

“Of course,” Lena nods to close out their own little instinctual exchange. “Now, I believe there’s a trade to be made …”

Lena picks up her cards and twitches her wrist as if to hand the necessary cards over to Kara; Alex senses all is about to be lost, and opts for the nuclear option.

“You’re being played, you know.”

“What?” Lena’s brow falls, her hand halting to a dead stop.

“Kara’s been playing you,” Alex repeats, the beginnings of a daring smirk across her face. “For the past two weeks.”

Kara freezes, her drink halfway to her parted lips. What is Alex talking about?

“Playing?” Lena echoes. “In what way?”

“She can open bottles without help,” Alex says. “She just doesn’t want to tell you that because she likes you doting on her.”

Oh … fuck. More specifically — _fuck you, Alex!_

If there was ever a time where Kara felt capable of melting her sister’s face off with a pointed glare, it would be now — but instead, under Lena’s indomitable scrutiny, she’s rendered as helpless as a deer before the wolf.

“You can _what_ _?”_ Lena asks. One eyebrow is arched in preparation for Kara’s execution.

Alex answers for her.

“All the little things you've been doing for Kara,” Alex continues. “She doesn’t need you to do them. She can use her sling arm more than she’s showing you.”

Like sharks in bloody waters, their previously-silent friends begin to aid Alex’s crusade.

“She figured out wrappers on the plane ride home from Gateway,” Maggie says. “And then bottle caps like a day later.”

Lena’s eyes don’t deviate from Kara’s hopelessly guilty face. They’re … not technically wrong?

“What about cutting your food?” Lena asks, eyelids narrowed just slightly in accusation.

“Doesn’t matter,” Winn says. “She ate an entire chicken breast like a caveman yesterday; just ripped right into it. Terrifying.”

That’s … also true.

“Interesting,” Lena sucks on her teeth.

“You’re in trouble,” Mike informs Kara. Yeah, _she knows_. 

“Good luck,” Maggie laughs.

“So I take it you can also get dressed by yourself?” Lena realizes.

“… More or less,” Kara mumbles. “Clasps and buttons are still hard.”

Alex snorts. “Buttons have always been a bit of a struggle for you.”

(No surprise there. Alex is always irked by Kara’s propensity to leave her going-out shirts unbuttoned, perhaps a button or three into inappropriate, but it did pull her Lena and all, so…)

Hm, the same Lena who looks incredibly unimpressed with her right now.

“I did actually need your help before Il Palazzo,” Kara assures Lena. “But … _technically_ I can do the other stuff alone. It’s just slower.”

“Good,” Lena says in a firm, dark tone that hints of a narrowly-avoided reckoning. “The wireless charger I bought for your phone …?”

“… was a very nice gift?” Kara’s voice goes up an octave. “Even if maybe, technically, unnecessary? I didn’t know you were going to buy it, though! Or the sling and the other stuff.”

“Sugar baby,” Maggie coughs.

“Oh my god, do not tell us what _other stuff_ was,” Alex groans. It yields a chorus of amused chuckles from Winn and Mike.

“Bras, Alex,” Kara deadpans. Alex makes an semi-unhappy noise all the same.

“So, is there anything else I should know you can do?” Lena demands.

There’s a flicker of silence as Kara weighs her fates.

“I … can technically shower alone,” Kara confesses. “Just slowly and carefully.”

Lena doesn’t show any signs that she's even heard Kara’s words. She slowly turns to face Alex, who just looks incredibly pained, and asks, “Alex, what do you need to win on your next turn?”

Alex quickly contemplates her various paths to victory. “Three ore.”

“Done,” Lena states, whipping the cards over to Alex. “Give me a sheep and we’re even.”

Delighted by the turn of events, Alex gleefully accepts the cards (and sure enough, uses them to end the game the next time it’s her turn). Her smug face taunts Kara from across the table the entire wait, and Kara briefly considers tackling her to the floor. 

But she abstains, just nervously wiggling in her chair beside Lena until the game concludes. This is her least favorite loss yet.

Lena finds Kara in the kitchen not long after.

“So,” she greets.

“So,” Kara echoes, slowly pulling a drink out of the fridge. It’s a twist top and a little too poetic for her tastes.

“Well,” Lena gives the drink in Kara’s fist a pointed glance. “Let’s see it then.”

Kara takes a sharp inhale and transfers the drink into her left hand, still able to hold it steady regardless of the sling, and then uses the cup of her palm to easily twist off the cap.

Lena watches the motion with clinical, scientific interest. “The torsion doesn’t bother your shoulder joint?”

“Nah, it’s light,” Kara says. “I just have to make sure I try not to move it without thinking.”

“Huh,” Lena hums. “Interesting.”

“Lena,” Kara exhales. “I can explain everything. I didn’t mean to take advantage of you or anything, I am so grateful for all the help and everything — like you’ve been _so amazing_ — but I don’t want you to feel like I lied to you; it was just that if I needed a drink opened, or my clothes adjusted, you kinda did it automatically without me asking, and it just felt so nice that you were paying attention and you wanted to help. I know I should’ve—”

“—Stop,” Lena holds up a hand.

Stop?

Kara gives her a wary look as her lips close.

“Kara, it’s fine, I’m not upset with you,” Lena assures. “I only aided Alex because there needed to be some sort of punishment for your deception—”

A shiver runs down Kara’s spine.

“—and I’m not about to look soft on you in front of your sister and friends.”

“I-I could always just make it up to you later,” Kara whispers, her voice optimistically suggestive. “Help you, since you’ve been helping me.”

“Oh, that’s not off the table,” Lena gives her a coy look. “But something tells me that would just reinforce your poor behavior.”

They both know it would.

“So you’re really not mad?” Kara double-checks.

“No,” Lena exhales, settling a hand over Kara’s forearm. “But imagine my surprise to find out you’ve been using your sling as a free ticket into my bed every night.”

Kara can’t help it as her lips twist into a heedless smile. “Lena, I think we both know I’ve never needed help getting into your bed …”

Lena just blinks at her twice and Kara suddenly regrets every decision she’s ever made. She opens her mouth to apologize again, profusely, but then a begrudging smile breaks like the dawn across Lena’s face and she halts.

“You’re insufferable, Danvers,” Lena shakes her head, nose wrinkled up.

“You know, you keep saying that,” Kara chuckles. “But your smile doesn’t match it. Makes it seem like you kinda want to say something else.”

“Does it now?” Lena raises an eyebrow, eyes warm with love beneath. “Maybe I do.”

* * *

As Game Night continues, the remaining guests trickle in; Nia and Brainy are the next to arrive. Lena braces herself the instant she catches a glimpse of unfamiliar faces.

“Lena,” Kara says, one hand strong and sure over the small of Lena’s back. “This is Nia Nal—”

“Hi, Lena,” Nia gives her a warm smile and pulls Lena in for a hug. The sudden physical contact with a relative stranger is a jolt to Lena’s system, sending her eyebrows flying, but she deftly recovers by the time she’s released. “I have _so many_ fun Kara-stories for you.”

“—and this is Querl Dox,” Kara continues, gesturing to the stiff-looking man beside Nia. “But you can call him Brainy.”

“A pleasure,” Brainy dips his head and shoulders forward, almost in a bow. If Kara thinks the motion unusual, she doesn’t show it.

“It’s wonderful to meet you both,” Lena smiles. “Kara’s told me a lot about you two.”

“She has barely spoken of you,” Brainy states. Lena can feel an immediate heat pulse in the tips of her ears. “Though, I suppose that is irrelevant; your reputation certainly precedes you: Lena Luthor, sister of Lex Luthor. Age twenty, fellow Mensa member, majority owner of—”

“Brainy!” Kara exclaims. “That’s good, thank you.” She then blinks as his words settle in the air and turns to Lena. “Wait, you’re in Mensa?”

Lena gives Kara the smallest nod in begrudging admittance.

“What, like it’s hard?” Brainy scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“We, uh, watched Legally Blonde this morning,” Nia explains, swallowing her giggles. Lena’s never seen it, but she can guess from context clues that it must be another one of those iconic movies Kara’s fond of quoting.

“It’s quite alright,” Lena assures. “Actually, Brainy, I did my research as well. I hear you’ve been working with Professor Fife on his work into superconductors; maybe you could tell me more sometime?”

“Why, of course,” Brainy waves his hands through the air. “First, we need to establish the basics of condensed matter physics, in which—”

“—Okay, no,” Alex exhales, setting a hand on Brainy and Kara’s shoulders. Kara shoots her sister a grateful look for the intervention. “Let’s go; we’re going to play Cards. You and Lena can nerd out over physics later where I can’t hear it.”

Apparently, that’s a common sentiment amongst the Game Night attendees. Mike lets out a groan as he continues to watch the basketball game, Kara tries and fails to hide her own wince of displeasure, and Maggie — sprawled out over the smaller couch — projects her voice back at Lena, “Exercise your fifth amendment rights over there, Little Luthor.”

Only Winn seems actually unopposed to it; Lena duly notes who her potential allies are.

“Very well,” Brainy nods, allowing Nia to lead him over to the coffee table in the center of the living room. “Though I still do not understand what makes these cards _against_ humanity. They are inanimate objects; they cannot express or denounce allegiances.”

“Start without us,” Kara tells her sister. Alex nods and leaves the two of them alone in the kitchen.

“Sorry, I should’ve given you a heads up,” Kara exhales, looking apologetically at Lena. “Brainy’s actually a big fan of your brother’s. It seems like that might extend to you too.”

“Really?” Lena’s eyebrows shoot up. “I was under the impression that Lex’s primary fanbase consisted solely of partygoers, gold-diggers, and lawyers with a specialty in narcotics.”

“Brainy doesn’t really focus on that stuff,” Kara says. “He’s more a fan of your brother’s inventions; the rest is irrelevant to him.”

“Well, there’s that,” Lena sucks on her teeth. Brainy’s mindset is a rather rare occurrence — the people who usually dwell within the realm of Lex’s inventions consider him to be an utter asshole, while his idolizers remain unconcerned with his daytime doings.

“He’s brilliant and sweet, I promise,” Kara says. “A lot of people misunderstand him, but out of everyone, he was actually the most excited to meet you, in his own way. And if you thought that was bad, you should’ve seen him with Nia before they started dating — well-intentioned but came off very stalker-y.”

Lena lets out a small chuckle. “Well, I feel honored. That’s still probably one of the most pleasant initial meetings I’ve had.”

“Hey,” Kara’s tone drops into something more serious, her head tilting in towards Lena’s face. “You doing okay? Is it too much?”

“I’m good,” Lena promises, resisting the urge to lick her lips while Kara’s mouth hovers so tantalizingly close. “Nia and Brainy both seem wonderful and I’d like to get to know them more.”

“Thank you,” Kara smiles softly, and in that moment, Lena would meet every single person on the planet for Kara Danvers. “You ready to lose?”

“Please, Danvers,” Lena scoffs. “As if.”

“Oh, game on,” Kara taunts, pulling Lena over to the large, unoccupied chair in the living room corner. It’s blue and worn, and Lena would infer by the fact that it’s still unoccupied — even though Alex and Winn have been relegated to sitting on the floor — that it’s something well-established as Kara’s territory.

But Kara doesn’t sit in it. She just gestures for Lena to take it, and then plops down on the floor beside it, her sling brushing against Lena’s calf in a constant reassurance.

Lena swears it’s just the softness of the chair cushions that she feels all over.

“Deal us in, Mags,” Kara requests.

Forty-five minutes later, Lena’s had a good deal of fun exploring which of Kara’s friends share her same dark humor — spoiler alert: it’s not Kara — up until Alex looks about ready to strangle Brainy over a rather divisive judgment call.

“What do you mean that’s not funny?” Alex seethes. “Those cards are _perfect_ together.”

“I do not see the humor in this combination,” Brainy defends. “Why would—oh, it’s facetious.”

“Yes!” Alex exhales. “Fuck! Wh—”

Alex is cut off by the sound of the Danvers’ unlocked apartment door swinging open.

“Hello!” Lucy announces, sauntering right in with James behind her. Lena’s spine stiffens. “Sorry we’re late.”

No excuse is offered which makes Lena think she doesn’t want to know the reason for the delay — though judging by the grim look on James’ face, it was not due to anything pleasurable.

“Why does Alex look ready to murder someone?” Lucy asks. As she walks closer, her eyebrows raise at the sight of the black and white cards strewn over the coffee table. “Oh, okay. Brainy judging?”

“Yup,” Maggie says, tipping back her beer. Apparently, Maggie Sawyer is the only one of the Comets who’s been successfully able to moderate herself enough to still _want_ to drink alcohol.

“Just for the record,” Kara whispers up to Lena. “Brainy and Alex are banned from ever being on a team together, regardless of the game.”

“A lethal combination?” Lena asks.

“If by ‘lethal’ you mean ‘Alex will strangle him’,” Kara chuckles. She’s smacked in the face by a throw pillow not a second later, thrown by the sister in question. Kara goes to chuck it back at Alex when a standing Lucy Lane snatches it up out of her hand, disarming her. 

Kara glares up at Lucy with a fiery heat.

“No. Food first, fight later,” Lucy states. “I don’t wanna be anywhere close to a hangry Kara Danvers in, oh, thirty minutes or so.”

“I’m not—” Kara’s cut off by a loud rumble from her stomach. Lena hides her smile of endearment behind a closed fist. “Nevermind.”

Suddenly self-motivated, Kara quickly collects everyone's orders, which is how Lena finds out it’s not at all unusual for Kara to order her own entire pizza, whilst also laying claim to the other half of Lena’s too. Lucy wastes no time in calling it in.

“O-kay, just placed the order,” Lucy says. “Jimmy, can you go pick it up?”

“Yeah,” James says. “Keys?”

Without hesitation, Lucy tosses him the keys to her car then plops down on the smaller couch, positioning herself under Maggie’s outstretched legs. “Don’t forget to ask for a doorgunner.”

“It’s fine, I can get it alone,” James replies.

“No,” Lucy states, a sharp edge to her voice. “You need someone to help carry the pizza boxes; I don’t want them loose on my seat. Remember?”

“You have coffee stains on that seat already,” James argues. “And they’re black anyway.”

“Ask someone, _James_ ,” Lucy commands. Her tone is very pointed, as are her eyes. The look on her face reads clear for all to see: _we talked about this. Do it._

“I can go,” Kara offers, either unaware or unconcerned by the rather forceful energy exuded between the couple.

Lena highly suspects from all the posturing (and an almost imperceptibly brief glimpse in her direction) that there’s only one person Lucy wants to go with James, and it’s not Kara. It’s her.

“Actually,” Lena says, rising to her feet. She slides her sweaty palms down the tops of her thighs. “Why don't I go? I have two good arms after all.”

Kara begins to object, standing up too. “Nah, Lena, it’s—“

“—a great idea,” Lucy nods. “Thank you, Luthor.”

Lena turns to face James, jaw set and chin raised, unintimidated ice in her eyes. A clear challenge.

“Really, it’s no trouble. I got it,” James states, and Lena could swear Lucy starts to irradiate across the living room.

“I insist,” Lena smiles, wrinkling her nose at him.

There’s a tense moment of silence as no one in the room dares move or breathe, all waiting to see how this plays out.

“… Okay,” James nods gruffly. “Let’s go.”

The car ride to the pizza place is, quite frankly, uncomfortable.

Which Lena had expected. Braced herself for.

Doesn’t make it any less unpleasant though.

“So where did you order from?” Lena asks. She’s quite practiced at making idle conversation about things she really doesn’t care about, experience that comes from all the various Luthor-family event obligations, but the words still feel thick and unruly as they leave her mouth.

“Stilton’s,” James states. He keeps his eyes on the road, jaw tensed and hands unnecessarily tight around the steering wheel.

“Another part of the Game Night tradition?” Lena asks, her voice light and whimsical enough to be friendly, yet still cool and professional in the face of an adversary.

“Yeah.”

The sound of the turn signal clicking repeatedly is almost deafeningly loud in the silence of the vehicle.

Lena draws a deep breath to push her chin tall and her shoulders wide. Enough of this.

“James,” Lena states. “Whatever issue you have with me, I’d like to know what it is. What I’m up against.”

James scoffs. “What issue?”

Lena sucks her teeth in irritation at his sarcasm. “Look, you clearly have something you wish to say to me. So let's hear it.”

“Fine,” James further tightens his grip on the steering wheel. “You want to know what my problem is? I’m worried you’re going to hurt Kara.”

“Why do you think that?” she asks, already knowing the answer.

“Because of who you are,” James answers.

“You’ll have to be more specific, James,” Lena deadpans.

“Because you’re a Luthor.”

It’s been awhile since Lena’s heard her surname said with such malice and revulsion, and yet it’s more familiar to her than her own face. 

“Yes, James, I know what my surname is; I’ve been writing it on papers since kindergarten,” Lena quips. “Now, are you going to elaborate into the specifics of your qualms, or are you just going to keep making vague, brooding comments? Because if I wanted to waste my time, I assure you, this isn’t how I’d do it.”

“You’re just like the rest of them,” James derides, shaking his head at her. “What you want is the only thing that matters.”

“The ‘rest’ being my family?” Lena asks sharply. It’s a cut direct to the point; she’s fed up with the continued dancing. “I suppose you’re going to tell me how you know me and my type then?”

“Yeah, I do know who your family is, Lena,” James says darkly. “Did you know my mom used to work for Luthor Corp, actually?”

Of course she didn’t, but it’s not really surprising — Luthor Corp and their various subsidies occupy most of the East Coast, and since James grew up only a stone’s throw away from the metropolitan throne of the Luthor Corp empire, the statistics favor it.

“I didn’t,” Lena says. “But I take it this crusade is personal?”

“You’re dating my best friend; isn’t everything in a relationship personal?” James challenges.

Lena rolls her eyes. “I take it your mother doesn’t work for Luthor Corp anymore?”

“No, she doesn’t,” James says with a deeply bitter tone. “No, she was fired for taking too much leave. … When I was a kid, my dad was killed during his tour overseas. My mom was left alone with two children to care for, and a husband to bury.”

He pauses to draw a fresh breath, but Lena doesn’t. Her lungs are too busy being crushed under the impending press of guilt for whatever crime her family’s committed now.

“Do you know how military funerals work?” James asks. 

Lena doesn’t, but she imagines it’s only a matter of seconds until she does.

“There’s a queue to be buried at Arlington,” James explains. “So you have multiple funerals; a service the first time when the casket comes home. And then again when it's your turn in the queue. They tell you when the funeral is going to be — the family doesn’t get full control.”

Anticipation draws Lena’s spine as tight as the assassin’s bow.

“So,” James continues with an angry exhale. “When my mom submitted her leave request for the second funeral, Luthor Corp denied her. Said she’d already taken the time for the first service. Said if she took off for the second, it would constitute grounds for dismissal under company policy. My mom did what she needed to do … they fired her the next day with some bullshit excuse.”

A lump swells at the base of Lena’s throat. She wishes this information was surprising, she really does, but it’s not exactly a foreign concept — Lionel had always been incredibly strict about the standards his employees were held to. It had never really registered to Lena when she was young, nothing more than a comment or two over the dinner table, but she still feels guilty for her complacency all the same.

“I’m sorry, James,” Lena says, feeling a small tremor in her bottom lip. “I—”

“Save it,” James states. “I’m not looking for your pity.”

Lena blinks as she recoils, but as harsh as his tone is, she imagines if their roles were reversed, she’d spare him no such discomfort either.

“Good,” she says coolly, recollecting herself in an instant. “Because I’m not offering any. I am truly sorry to hear about your father; I know how it feels to lose a parent, and I wouldn't want any pity either. But what I don’t understand is what this has to do with Kara and I.”

“Have either of you thought this through, actually?” James asks. He turns to glance at her briefly; it’s the first time their eyes meet the whole car ride, and it’s disorienting.

Lena’s eyes narrow at him. “Thought what through?”

“Your relationship,” James says.

“Playing the part of the jealous ex?” Lena bites.

“Hell no,” James shakes his head. “Kara and I aren’t like that. I don’t care who Kara sleeps with; that’s fun and none of my business. But if Kara’s about to get her heart hurt—”

“You’re not her guardian, James,” Lena snaps.

“I know,” James replies. “Kara doesn't need one. But what she does need is a good partner.”

“And you doubt I have the capacity to be one?” Lena challenges. “I have access to any resource Kara would ever need. She’ll never want for anything with me. How many other people could provide that?”

“You don’t get it; it’s more than that. Kara doesn’t just need a good partner, Lena,” James says. “She needs a good _person_. Have you asked yourself if you can be that for her?”

Now that’s a question that makes Lena want to bolt from the moving car with absolutely no regard for her safety.

“Do you thoroughly vet all of Kara’s romantic interests like this?” Lena returns the question with her own. “Or just the ones with the last name Luthor?”

“No,” James growls. “But you _are_ a Luthor, Lena. You’re one of the rich and powerful; the people who don’t care about anything unless it's what _they_ want.”

“You know _nothing_ about me, James Olsen,” Lena hisses. “Your assumptions are misguided and incorrect.”

“Prove it, then,” James says. “Because from what I can see, there’s only one way this thing between you and Kara ends.”

“What do you want from me, James?” Lena clenches her jaw, taut enough to go to war. “A promise that I’m never going to hurt Kara? Because I can’t offer that. We're in a relationship and there are going to be times that we hurt each other, even unintentionally.”

“I want to know what makes you so different from the rest of your family,” James states. “That you won’t drag Kara down with the rest of you.”

Lena rolls her eyes and reaches for her time-weathered security blanket. “Well for starters, I’m not actually a Luthor,” she replies. “I was only adopted after my mother passed away.”

James is quiet for a moment. “I’m sorry for your loss, Lena,” he bows his head. “But that doesn’t answer my question. Whoever your parents are, that doesn’t dictate your actions — you do.”

“Then why do you insist on only seeing so far as my last name?” Lena retorts.

James’ mouth gapes slightly as he tries to figure out how to respond, and Lena realizes that for all his conviction, she’s managed to find the fault in his argument with Luthor-perfect precision. 

She could use it to demolish the remainder of his crusade with cold, clinical meticulousness. To distance herself from the sins of her family members. To absolve herself by force. But then Lena’s gut twists a little with the awareness that would only reinforce his opinion of her further; that’s exactly what a Luthor would do. 

But Lena doesn’t have to be a Luthor. Not always. Sometimes she can just be _Lena_.

So she does the last thing a Luthor would do: be open and genuine.

“Fine, James. To be honest with you … I’m not sure I am different from the rest of my family,” Lena confesses. “I think there’s a path in this world that takes me right down with the rest of them. But I intend to fight against that fate with everything I have. And while I don’t have all the answers … I do believe uncomfortable conversations like this are a good place to start. What I think is best might not always be, but I’m willing to listen and try to make things right.”

Lena meets James’ blinking eyes with a mask of cool composure.

“That’s … not what I was expecting you to say,” James admits. “And that’s a better answer than I’d probably give. But even if you are different from the rest of your family, my concerns still stand.”

“Do tell.” 

A weariness settles into Lena’s bones; this is what it must feel like to fight in one battle only to meet another right down the road.

“Look,” James sighs. “Kara’s … very special. She has an incredible heart, and she always sees the good in people. Even if it’s not there—”

Ouch.

“—and it’s gotten her burned before,” James continues. “Hookups with Rich Bitches are one thing, but a relationship? Kara’s got a type, and it’s not relationship material; it’s a one-way ticket to heartbreak. It’s too much to handle for her h—”

“Who are you to decide what Kara can and can’t handle?” Lena demands.

“I’m not,” James holds up a defensive hand, voice deep and stern. “Kara is her own person. I’m just saying, I think she’s had enough heartbreak to last a lifetime. Another one would be too much to handle for her heart; she doesn’t deserve any more.”

“And you think I’ll break her heart.” Lena sucks on her teeth.

“Won’t you?” James challenges. 

His tone is full of such iron conviction that for a second Lena falters, allowing him to continue.

“Even if you both stay together until graduation, what then?” James asks. “Kara’s not just some future trophy wife. She’s got an incredible future and she’ll need a supportive partner to match it. A partner that can compromise, not one who always gets what they want.”

James continues further. “Do you think what Clark and all the other basketball players do is easy? The pressure, the traveling, the scheduling. It’s not exactly ideal.”

Well, shit.

… They haven’t exactly talked about that.

It had almost been a taboo subject: the future. Following the repair of their falling-out, both Lena and Kara had been taking it day-by-day, at least verbally. They’d danced around the suggestion of anything more than that — they’re young and this is all still so new and fragile.

To an omniscient spectator, their actions might promise a deeper commitment, both to themselves and each other, but Lena hadn’t really stopped to contemplate the logistics of what that would entail herself. (And there are only so many hours of therapy one can squeeze into an already-packed week.)

Previously, the phrase ‘I love you’ was the most frightening combination of words Lena could imagine — nebulous and unrealistic as it once was — only for it to now be replaced by a bigger and badder version: ‘the future’.

Prior to Kara Danvers, the only consideration Lena had ever given to her future was the establishment of measurable, quantifiable accomplishments: a doctorate, the foundation of her own lab, at least one groundbreaking scientific discovery, and inevitably assisting Lex with Luthor Corp’s management here and there, while always keeping herself far from the haunted throne. Never any consideration towards something so abstract and frivolous as love and happiness and _a life_.

Lena had no desire to share fates with Orpheus, incapable of resisting a glimpse of what _could_ be, only to lose it all in the end.

But you know what? Fuck it. She’s tasted the ichor of the gods and now she wants the same gold to flow through her own veins. To achieve happiness. Lena wants this — she wants this all with Kara if she can have it, and even if it’s going to be a feat of strength to make work, she wants to try to _make it work_.

So fear and all, she’s going to try, damn it. One step at a time.

“… Your execution might’ve left something to be desired, Olsen,” Lena says. “But your objection is valid.”

“Mind mentioning that to Lucy?” James huffs.

“Angry girlfriend causing you hardship?” Lena taunts.

“That obvious?” James responds. It might just be a trick of the city lights, but Lena would swear the corners of his mouth actually flicker upwards.

Since the first time they met, Lena Luthor had always perceived James Olsen to be a stoic, judgmental, arrogant man. But in this light, she sees a lot of Kara in him — protective, loving, and maybe a little endearingly terrified of their girlfriends’ wrath.

“Kara and I haven’t talked about the future, in any explicit way,” Lena admits. “And frankly, I don’t think we need to, not yet. I have no intention of doing anything brash or hurried. At the end of the day, I want to be with Kara, and I will continue to invest in that for as long as it’s something we both want. The conflicts you’ve outlined will certainly surface, and we’ll handle them at that time with the tools and knowledge we have at our disposal.”

Lena quickly draws a breath and continues. “But I’m not going to fight a battle that hasn’t risen yet, with no knowledge or understanding of what it’ll take to win. I would imagine you have no idea what the future will hold for your own relationship, just as I don’t.”

James lets out a deep hum that sounds something like a conceding agreement to fact. “I can’t say I do.”

“Then we understand each other,” Lena says, emboldened by the hopeful feeling of a potential resolution between them. Maybe even something capable of growing into mutual respect. “I love Kara. And while I have nothing to prove to you, I’d appreciate the chance to earn your trust in that.”

A heavy silence passes between them, Lena’s words hanging like an outstretched hand between them.

”Okay,” James finally inhales. “Okay, Luthor. Take care of her, please.”

“I will,” Lena says, voice stronger than steel. “Though, if you don’t mind me asking, James, why didn’t you and Kara work together?”

James lets out a chuckle, and it almost sounds bashful. “I, uh, might’ve kept trying to fight her battles for her.”

“Hmm,” Lena hums, “I can see how two people with hero-complexes might not have the most harmonious relationship.”

“Yeah,” James sighs. “And please believe me when I say I’m not being a jealous boyfriend here. I love Kara and I always will, but it’s not like that, I swear.”

“No, I do believe that’s true,” Lena says. “Your concerns are valid, and quite frankly, something I’ve never faced before. I don’t have an answer for several of the things you’ve asked me, but — for all our faults — Luthors don’t let our problems go unsolved.”

“Well, good, I’m glad to hear that,” James nods, parallel-parking the car with ease. “Because we’re here, and we have a problem, so _you_ get to be the one to figure out how to fit all eight pizza boxes in Lucy’s car without them touching the seats.”

_“Eight?”_

The pizzas — all eight of them, distributed equally now — make it back to the Danvers apartment intact. And surprisingly, so do both James and Lena, the hostility between them slowly evaporating in their mutual understanding, much to the surprise of the occupants inside.

Kara practically barrels into them, seemingly after the pizza boxes in Lena’s arms; normally Lena would credit it to her excitement for food, if not for the brief eye contact they make. Lena can see the blonde’s protective streak flickering in her eyes like a fresh fire.

_Are you okay?_

_Everything’s fine._

_You sure?_

Lena answers with a soft smile. _Yes._

That’s apparently enough for Kara to disarm her defenses, and she quickly snatches the pizza boxes out of Lena’s hands, clamped between her good arm and her chin.

“Let’s eat!” Kara cheers.

Despite her obvious curiosity, Kara waits until the end of Game Night to ask what transpired between Lena and James, once they’re back at Lena’s apartment for the night, entangled in the kitchen as they sip at their tea.

“So … can I ask now?” Kara gives her an expectant look. “Once you two left, Lucy admitted she had no idea what James’ problem with you has been, but that she told him he needed to fix it. What happened?”

Lena repeats the information James had provided to her, about his family and their history with Luthor Corp. The tempered grimace on Kara’s face suggests that some of the information is familiar but not all of it.

“I knew about James’ dad,” Kara admits softly. “He never talked about him with anyone … we always kinda bonded over that. No obligation to share, until he started to open up to me, but I couldn’t return it like he wanted.”

Lena strokes a soothing hand up Kara’s hip, her body wedged between Kara’s legs as the blonde leans back against the counter.

“I didn’t know about his mom though,” Kara says. “She works for some military spouse support charity now; I never thought about what she did before then. How are you feeling about it all?”

“I’m … not exactly surprised,” Lena muses. “My family’s done far worse; our evil reputation isn’t a new or revolutionary concept to me.”

“I don’t care about your family’s reputation,” Kara says. “I care about you, Lena.”

Maybe it’s a little selfish, but Lena could go hearing that everyday for the rest of her life without a single complaint.

“I’d like to do something for James’ family,” Lena announces. “I know I can’t repair the damage that’s been done, but … I’d like to try and cultivate something new and good.”

Kara frowns. “You don’t have to do that Lena. This isn’t something you did wrong and have to try and fix.”

“I know,” Lena nods. “But I’d like to. Will you help me figure out what might be appropriate?”

“Okay. Yeah, I’ll try to think of some things,” Kara promises. “But I’m still kinda annoyed with how James treated you at first. I’m sorry you have to deal with this again, Lena, especially from my friends …”

“Don’t apologize,” Lena murmurs. “He cares very deeply for you, Kara, and I respect him greatly for that. We reached a healthy understanding.”

“Still,” Kara watches Lena intensely as she sips at her tea. “I don’t want anyone to scare you off. Or make you feel like you need to apologize for things you didn’t do.”

“They won’t,” Lena states, solid in her newfound bravery. “And I don’t.”

“You’re sure?” Kara asks, setting her mug down to pull Lena in tighter.

“I’m sure.” Lena presses a kiss to Kara’s cheek and she can feel the woman melt underneath the contact.

“Well,” Kara smiles dreamily. “You’ve officially met the whole group now.”

“And lived to tell the tale,” Lena remarks.

“You don’t seem too worse for wear,” Kara teases. “You know what comes next, right?

“Mm,” Lena hums, eyes raking down Kara’s face to fixate on her lips. “A reward, perhaps?”

“Nope …” Kara says, her smile growing impossibly larger. “I get to meet _your_ friends now!”

All the pleasure and amusement on Lena’s face drops straight to the floor.

Oh, _that_.

“Kara,” she deadpans. “Do you want to have sex with me tonight?”

Kara frowns and nods vigorously, a small crinkle appearing across her forehead.

“Then stop talking,” Lena states. “And take me to bed.”

And with that, Lena’s swept off her feet and into her sheets, the inevitable meeting between Kara and Lena’s friends long forgotten.

* * *

Lena doesn’t intend for it to happen like this.

It’s an accident entirely.

And it’s all Andrea’s fault.

. . . . . . . .

_“So I met someone,” Andrea informed Lena, pedaling away on her spin bike._

_Somewhere in the background, Lena could hear the instructor barking out orders at the class, but none of it registered over the pounding of her pulse in her eardrums._

_“What? Who?” Lena asked, slightly out of breath. This was always the worst part, in her opinion, still early into the workout, right when the lactic acid began to accumulate without mercy._

_“His name is Russell,” Andrea said. “Oh, try not to look so disappointed, Lena. Not all of us can go around seducing NCU’s golden girl.”_

_“I’m not disappointed, I swear,” Lena said, right before a wince crossed her face. No matter how many spin classes they went to, her legs always seemed to burn with the same intensity every time._

_The instructor yelled at them to bring it up a level, and they did, the searing sensation in Lena’s legs fading in favor of moving up to her lungs._

_“I’m happy for you, truly,” Lena continued, panting a little bit harder. To her relief, Andrea was too. “Less happy that you’re trying to … talk to me about this right now … when I’m busy trying to breathe and all.”_

_“Here I thought … you’d welcome the distraction,” Andrea smirked._

_“Well, if you frame it like that …” Lena wiped a drop of sweat from her temple. “Tell me about him then.”_

_Andrea nodded and took a big gulp of air. “So you know how you banned us from Al’s last weekend?”_

_“I didn’t ban you,” Lena protested. “I just asked for one night to meet Kara’s friends in peace.”_

_“Same difference,” Andrea huffed. “Anyway, William took Jack and I to that new bar … you know, the one that opened on Fifth Street … turns out, it’s a_ **_sports_ ** _bar, Lena.”_

_Andrea turned towards her, face twisted into a dramatic scowl._

_“Oh, you poor soul,” Lena remarked, using the last remaining bit of air in her lungs to chuckle at her friend’s misfortune._

_“Yeah, tell me about it,” Andrea shook her head. “As soon as I realized, I tried to ditch … but then William ran into his friend Trevor and some other guys. One of them was Russell. Turns out he used to date—”_

_Lena only half-hears the string of events and gossip and names, but she gets the jist: Andrea met a guy named Russell through William._

_“Is he cute?” Lena asked. There were precious few things on this planet that could get Andrea Rojas to voluntarily stay at a sports bar, and Lena knew them all: a cute face, bribery, or blackmail._

_“So cute,” Andrea said. “Not quite Kara Danvers-cute, of course—”_

_Lena glared in response to the friendly ribbing._

_“—but he’s definitely cute,” Andrea finished._

_“Did you two hook up?” Lena asked._

_“No.”_

_Lena’s head whipped over in surprise. “No? That’s quite unlike you.”_

_“I know, right?” Andrea sighed. “We spent all night together … he bought me drinks … even walked me home. I invited him up, but he said no … he didn’t want it to just be a hookup.”_

_“How noble,” Lena remarked. “So are you done with him then?”_

_“Normally I would be,” Andrea said. “But I find him intriguing. He’s so … respectful. Is that bad?”_

_“It’s not bad,” Lena states. “Some might even say it’s healthy.”_

_Andrea scoffed. “Please, who wants their love-life to be healthy?”_

_Lena’s silence over-spoke for herself._

_“Oh god, Kara has made you so soft,” Andrea grimaced. “What happened to my icy bitch of a best friend?”_

_“… Still here, Andrea,” Lena warned, with the sharpest edge she could muster._

_“That’s a relief,” Andrea exhaled._

_Not long after, the spin instructor shouted for them to take a cool-down interval, and Lena sighed in relief._

_“So do you want to see Russell again?” Lena asked, finally feeling like she could get enough air once more._

_“I kind of do,” Andrea admitted. “He’s throwing a darty this weekend and he invited me to come.”_

_Never one for p_ _ortmanteaus, Lena grimaced in preemptive anticipation._ _“A ‘darty’?”_

_“Day-party,” Andrea explained._

_Yeah, she was right to grimace._

_“… Is he a frat boy, Andrea?” Lena asked, suspicion creeping into her voice. “Because after the last time, I distinctly remember you swore me to—”_

_“No,” Andrea exhaled, much to their mutual relief. “He plays football.”_

_“Oh,” Lena said. A jock, well, that’s not awful — and she has absolutely zero room to talk now. “Are you going to go?”_

_“It’s a party, Lena, naturally,” Andrea quipped. “Jack and William will be there too. But, you know, what I would really appreciate is the support of my wonderful best friend …”_

_“Oh, no,” Lena chuckled. “Absolutely not. I’m not going.”_

. . . . . . . .

Lena goes.

The party — Lena _refuses_ to call it a ‘darty’ — is thrown at a house over in Lynwood, in one of the suburbs of National City. It’s still fairly close to campus, but far enough away that they have to catch a ride-share there.

Once they arrive, Lena climbs out of the vehicle in a huff. She’s already mildly irritated that Jack made her ride in the middle seat, since she ‘doesn’t have the long, poorly-foldable legs of two six-foot-plus tall men’. (It’s a weak argument in Lena’s opinion.) But since Jack did behave and avoid Al’s last weekend, she rewards him with her compliance, albeit begrudgingly.

Lena’s attendance at said party is also an apology to Andrea — for keeping things with Kara a secret from her for so long — and it will certainly be the last of her benevolent reparations.

This year has held many surprises for Lena (and it’s not even over yet), but Lena Luthor’s (semi-)voluntary presence at a backyard frat-esque party in the middle of the afternoon certainly tops the list. It’s dethroned only by one thing: falling in love with Kara Danvers.

The same Kara Danvers who got a good laugh over breakfast when Lena told her she’d be attending such an event.

“Oh, a day-drink?” Kara asks, interest piqued. “And don’t take this the wrong way, but … _why?”_

Her question is followed by a massive bite of pancake, and Lena takes that as her cue to speak next.

“Yes,” Lena sighs, “Apparently, Andrea was invited by some boy she’s interested in. I’d ask if you want to join, but that would entail you meeting both Jack and Andrea at once.”

“I’ve already met them both,” Kara points out. “Do you want me to go with you? I’m happy to help you how I can.”

Lena inhales while she mulls it over. Kara’s offer seems genuine enough, but that’s really not the environment she’d like for the next stage of ‘meeting the friends’ to occur in.

“No, it’s alright,” Lena declines. “Neither of them will be on their best behavior and I’d prefer not to subject you to that yet. Besides, I already have my escape planned and you’ll just slow me down, Danvers.”

“Okay, if you’re sure,” Kara chuckles, taking another huge bite of breakfast. “Wherpfs iph aph?”

Lena glares at her, a clear message to _stop talking with food in your mouth, darling_. Kara shows no sign of acknowledging it.

“Andrea said the boy who’s hosting it plays football,” Lena says.

“Oh, really?” Kara hums. “That’s funny, I didn’t know they were throwing a day-drink too, but I guess it’s a great weekend for them. We’re all headed over to the soccer house this afternoon for one; I was going to see if you wanted to come, but I wouldn’t dare steal you away now.”

“You’re not going to offer me a convenient excuse to decline?” Lena taunts.

“Nah, because you’re a good friend and you’re going to go support Andrea,” Kara smiles. 

Lena shakes her head. “You're a horrible influence, Danvers.”

“I learned from the best,” Kara winks. “Besides, I’m sure I’ll see you before the night’s over.”

Lena raises an eyebrow. “Is that right?”

“Am I wrong?” Kara gives her a look, cocky beyond belief.

Lena doesn’t have a good objection to make, so she embraces it.

“In that case, why don’t I order a car for you?” Lena asks, shooting Kara a coy look. “It’ll be like old times.”

Kara’s smile is blinding as she chuckles. “I’d love that.”

So that had been that; the last spark of hopeful escape smothered by duty and circumstance.

It’s not really that bad though, Lena’s just being dramatic, even if she’s now destined to spend her afternoon _here_ — at some poorly-maintained suburban house with flags covering all the windows — the fifth wheel of her friends and severely doubtful that she’ll see anyone else she knows.

(The only saving grace is Lena’s plan to slip away back to the solace of her apartment in about an hour or so, once Andrea’s sufficiently distracted.)

Russell comes out front to greet them. 

He has dark, curly hair, and is shorter and smaller than Lena would’ve expected for a football player — not that she really knows anything about American football (and is very content to keep it that way). There’s also something vaguely familiar about him, but Lena knows for a fact she’s never met this man before in her life.

“You made it!” he exclaims, pulling Andrea in for a massive hug. Despite the fact Andrea doesn’t share Lena’s qualms about physical contact, she looks taken-aback by the gesture, and both Lena and Jack have to stifle their laughter at her shocked expression, with Lena being much more efficient at it.

“Russell, you’ve met Jack already,” Andrea says, gesturing around. “And you know William, of course.”

“Hey, mate,” William greets.

“And this is Lena,” Andrea finishes.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Lena offers him. “I’ve always wondered what it would take to keep Andrea Rojas at a sports bar.”

Russell lets out a belly laugh. “Lena Luthor has a sense of humor! I guess your reputation doesn’t do you justice; it’s a pleasure to meet you. Russell Rogers,” he shakes her hand. “Right, well, come on back.”

They trudge around the side of the house, following some heavy-trodden path through the grass, headed in the direction of the backyard. Lena can already feel the bassline of some college dropout music thrumming through the air. Their neighbors must _hate_ them.

“I hope you guys came thirsty,” Russell says. “Monel bankrolled us so there’s plenty to go around.” 

Lena’s brow furrows. Why does that name sound familiar?

“I’m always thirsty,” Jack chuckles, and suddenly, they’re standing in the backyard.

It’s a stereotypical college party, and yet it’s not.

People mill about everywhere, but it’s not packed, much to Lena’s relief. Everyone seems relaxed. And the space still feels open, even though there’s a lot to look at. There’s several clusters of people engaged in conversation all over the yard, holding red plastic cups or cans of disgustingly cheap beer as they stand around. A few discordant items are sprawled around the grassy yard — an industrial trash can, an old couch, and a pair of standing speakers left to the mercy of the weather, connected to the house interior by a lone orange extension cord.

And yet, in all the chaos, Lena’s eyes are drawn to one particular sight: a few people standing in the middle of the yard, all clustered around each other. 

The two people closest to Lena are facing away from her, so she can’t see anything more recognizable than brown hair on the backs of their heads, but it's still a familiar enough sight that Lena’s suspicions begin to rise.

What Lena does recognize instantly, though, is the blonde woman in the center, bent over with her forehead pressed against a bat. She spins around it until she loses her balance entirely and falls down to the grass in slow-motion. If Lena had any doubts remaining, her clothes give the last of her identity away; a hoodie covered by a royal blue basketball jersey with red and black accents — the colors of the Metropolis Meteors — completed by the name “Kent” and the number zero across the back, bisected by a black nylon strap that Lena’s handled every day for the past two weeks.

Laughter fills the air.

Of course.

It’s _Kara fucking Danvers_ and this time, Lena has to laugh.

Looks like against Lena’s best wishes, Kara Danvers will be meeting her friends (again) today. Lena’s not sure if the universe is still conspiring against her, or being kind to her, but if this is the outcome, she doesn’t mind either way.

Kara’s laughter is some sort of gravitational magnet, and Jack notices her too.

“Did you know she was here?” Jack murmurs behind Lena, bending down to her ear-height. “Or do jocks just flock together?”

“No,” Lena shakes her head. Her eyes remain locked on Kara, still laughing wildly as she lays in the grass, oblivious to the party’s new attendees.

The sun may hang above them in the sky, but Kara is by far the brightest thing around.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Jack nudges. “Go get your girl.”

Lena inhales and strides forward through the yard. As she approaches, Kara’s two companions — Lucy and Mike — turn to see who’s walking over. Kara’s laughing so hard that her eyes are closed and the surprise still intact, so Lena brings a finger up to her lips to keep them quiet. They both give her an amused smile and step further apart so Lena can fit between them.

Kara just keeps laughing, eyes still closed, in her own perfect little world.

Lena comes to stand over Kara with her legs almost on either side of her girlfriend’s head, simultaneously grateful yet disappointed she didn’t opt to wear a skirt — if for nothing other than the expression that would overcome Kara’s face when she opened her eyes.

“Need a hand, Danvers?”

That said, the look Lena does get when Kara opens her eyes is still pretty satisfying. She stops laughing as her eyelids open, steel blue shining under the mid-afternoon sun, and she blinks thrice before making another sound. Her head tilts slightly to the side, smushing the grass beneath it. 

Kara glances up like she’s never known such a wonder, and in her shock says the first thing to come to mind. 

“You look like my hot girl bummer!”

Lucy snorts beside them, but neither of them breaks their eye contact. Lena just looks down at Kara, one eyebrow perilously cocked, waiting for the dawn to rise.

A split-second later and Kara bolts to her feet, realizing that this isn’t just some sort of dizziness-induced mirage.

“Lena!” Kara exclaims, brushing the dirt off her pants before picking up the discarded bat. “What are you doing here? I had no idea you were coming; this is amazing!”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Lena says. 

The moratorium on silence now lifted, both Lucy and Mike welcome Lena as they all come to cluster together.

“Hey, what’s up,” Mike greets her with a warm nod.

“Never thought I’d see you here,” Lucy chuckles, giving Lena’s side an affectionate elbow. “You day-drink now, Luthor?”

“When held at gunpoint by my supposed friends,” Lena quips. “What’s with the spinning?”

“Oh, we were playing Dizzy Bat earlier,” Kara explains. Her face is less red than it was a few moments ago, the blood drained back down. “But then we just started to mess around to see how many times we could make it around before falling down.”

“Did you win?” Lena asks.

“ _Definitely_ not,” Kara chuckles. “But it was still fun.”

Lucy slips the bat from Kara’s hand and replaces it with one of the two cups in her hands. “I’ll take this,” she says. “I’m going to go make Dreamer try next.”

Lucy walks off into the crowd, and Kara uses the movement as a reason to shift closer to Lena.

“So, what do you think?” Mike asks, a proud grin across his face. “Pretty good party, right?”

“It is,” Lena agrees, though likely not for the same reasons as Mike. Hers is more of a lovable-blonde type of reason.

“I thought you were going to the football house?” Kara asks, brow knit together. “I’ve only been once but I’m pretty sure it’s a few neighborhoods over. How did you end up here?”

“That’s what Andrea said; the guy who invited her plays football,” Lena explains. “She, Will, and Jack are here too.”

“Oh, who's the guy?” Kara asks, head tilted.

“Russell Rogers,” Lena answers.

Mike jerks his head back. “Wait, Rip?”

Lena opens her mouth to ask what a ‘Rip’ is, but suddenly, they’re joined by two more bodies; Andrea and Russell, and the question is forgotten.

“Keep my name out of your mouth, Monel,” Russell jokes, a playful smile across his face.

“Monel?” Lena mutters.

“Mike’s middle name,” Kara volunteers, speaking low into Lena’s ear. “That’s what some of the boys call him.”

“And what are you two whispering about?” Andrea calls them out. “If Lena’s trying to convince you to let her leave — don’t.”

“Oh, nah,” Kara chuckles. “I’m just explaining that Mike used to live here last year. That’s how we all know Rip.”

“Until my wonderful mother made me move out,” Mike volunteers. “Apparently, Rip and I aren’t allowed to have fun together during her re-election year.”

Mike and Andrea share a polite — if not slightly uncomfortable — nod of acknowledgement next, and Lena wonders if Kara knows they’ve slept together. She’s now hiding her face in her cup, so Lena would guess the answer is ‘yes’.

The gently-awkward moment doesn’t extend too terribly long, as Winn swings by — “Oh, hi, Lena!” he grins when he spots her — and informs Mike that they’re up for pong, and they head inside, leaving just Lena, Andrea, and their respective partners.

“Were you really so miserable that you had to call Supergirl to come save you, Lena?” Andrea jabs.

Lena gives her friend a sharp glare.

“Actually, I was already here,” Kara volunteers. “My whole team is. But it’s nice to see you again, Andrea.”

“You too. Especially now that I know you two are dating this time,” Andrea pulls Kara in and presses a kiss to her cheek, much to the blonde’s surprise. “ _Not_ that I got to enjoy the same exclusivity as Jack, mind you.”

There’s a very small part of Lena, deep down in her stomach, that makes her want to kiss Kara right over the same spot, thoroughly marking the blonde with her lipstick — but no, _it’s Andrea_ , it’s _fine_ — that’s just Lena’s insecurities manifesting, just as her therapist warned her about. Everything’s alright; there’s no territory to protect. 

Kara chose her. Kara _wants_ to be with Lena.

Life is good.

(Therapy might actually be effective? Lena files that away to process later.)

“Sorry, Andrea,” Kara chuckles, tucking herself into Lena’s side. “I promise, it wasn’t personal. So how do you know Rip—Russell?”

“We met last weekend,” Andrea offers, smiling at him. “You know, when poor Jack and I were banned from Al’s, since Lena was too nervous to meet your friends with spectators present.”

“Well, she did great,” Kara beams proudly at Lena, chest puffing out slightly.

“I did not _ban_ you,” comes Lena’s frosty bite. “You’re being dramatic.”

Andrea purses her lips. “Am I? I learned from the best, you know.”

Lena sighs and finds a different topic to pursue.

“I thought you said Russell plays football,” Lena says to Andrea, but her tone twists it into the question it is.

“Yeah, futbal,” Andrea frowns. “He does?” 

Russell nods beside her.

“Football,” Lena reiterates. “Kara said that soccer players lived here …?”

“Oh, god, Lena,” Andrea looks at her in light horror. “ _Futbal_ , not ‘football’. God, how badly have the Luthors butchered my poor Irishwoman?”

Of course. Football, futbal, soccer. Lena’s shocked she didn’t connect that before now — she’ll blame it on the fact she didn’t really even want to go in the first place. (But now that she’s here, she doesn’t mind for some sudden reason). And it helps to explain away her and Kara’s obliviousness.

“Actually, some of Ireland uses ‘soccer’ too,” Lena informs her.

“Well, it’s _futbal_ _;_ Argentina knows best,” Andrea retorts.

Russell turns to her. “Wait, are you from Argentina?”

“I was born there,” Andrea says. “Years later, my parents divorced so my mamá and I moved to London. Then when she ran off to France with her new boyfriend, I came to Metropolis to live with Papá. That’s where I met this one—”

She gestures to Lena.

“—away at boarding school, and we got in all kinds of trouble together,” Andrea smirks.

“You got into trouble,” Lena corrects. “And you dragged me down along with you.”

“And yet, I distinctly remember you starting to enjoy it,” Andrea smirks.

Lena actually can’t dispute that — after spending her entire life doing everything the Luthors expected of her, acting the perfect pawn, a little deviant behavior had felt like a drug rush. Andrea had always instigated it, but Lena admittedly had come to enjoy it greatly. Much to Lillian’s irritation.

“I still can’t believe you were such a bad girl, Lena,” Kara mumbles.

It’s an innocuous enough comment, and yet it does something very specific to the area between Lena’s thighs, and she’s forced to take a very deep inhale to regain control.

“You’ll have to tell me more about Argentina,” Russell says, oblivious to Lena’s small crisis. “I’ve always wanted to go there and watch one of their matches. They have some absolutely amazing talent on their national team.”

“It’s a beautiful place,” Andrea’s lips turn up into a coy smile. “I wouldn’t be caught dead watching sports, but maybe—”

Lena doesn’t catch the rest as Kara starts whispering in her ear.

“Is this what it’s like hearing me talk about basketball?” Kara asks, quiet enough that no one else will hear. “If so, I’m sorry.”

“That apology is a few months too late,” Lena quips. “I’m already invested now.”

Kara grins. “Oh, no, _what_ a shame,” comes the sarcastic response.

“Russell?” Lena interrupts. “What does a girl have to do to get a drink around here?”

“Ah, help yourself to whatever,” he says. “Kara can show you where everything is.”

Kara takes a step back and gestures her arm outward, careful not to spill her drink in the process. “This way, Miss Luthor.”

Lena rolls her eyes. “I thought I told you not to call me that.”

“Jack gets to call you that,” Kara pouts.

“And Jack also gets called many things that I would never call you,” Lena retorts.

“Fair enough,” Kara chuckles. 

They walk through the back door of the house into a beer- and grime-encrusted kitchen. The dim lighting inside takes a moment to adjust to. Right as Lena’s eyes recover, Kara twirls around and winks at Lena, a devilish smile across her face. “Wanna pantydropper?”

Lena blinks twice. 

_“I’m sorry?”_

“No, it’s the drink,” Kara chuckles. She shows Lena the contents of her own cup. “They’re called pink panty-droppers.”

Of course they are.

“What’s in it?” Lena asks, eyes narrowed suspiciously at Kara.

“Just try it first,” Kara chuckles, holding the cup out a little more. “Then I’ll tell you.”

Lena shoots a questioning glance down at the liquid in question; it is indeed pink, and certainly contains alcohol from the smell, but the rest remains a concerning mystery.

“I promise you it’s safe, if that's what you’re worried about,” Kara murmurs. “It’s just the soccer and basketball teams here and everyone’s good. And Mike always duct-tapes the cooler closed.”

A quick glance over at the counter confirms that the cooler — suspiciously similar to the ones NCU provides to all their sports teams — is indeed (heavily) duct-taped shut, and Lena’s opinion of Mike goes up unexpectedly. Though, Kara really does seem to have consistently good taste in friends, Lena has to admit.

Lena takes an experimental sip from Kara’s cup. She goes to make a face automatically but finds out she can’t — it’s actually not bad. There’s a little something off about the flavor; it’s definitely more than pink lemonade, but the sweetness is balanced out nicely with something sharp.

“That’s … not terrible,” Lena concedes, handing Kara back the cup.

“Oh, you like it,” Kara grins. “You just don’t wanna admit it.”

Lena sighs. “What is it?”

“Pink lemonade, 151, tequila, and beer,” Kara says proudly. “I helped Mike mix it!”

Oh god.

Lena brings a hand up to her mouth, feeling a small identity crisis impeding. She just drank _that_ … and liked it?

Oh, no.

“You’ve ruined me,” Lena informs Kara with great despair.

Kara breaks out into a huge grin. “What? Ruined your taste?” she teases, then drops her voice down to something unfairly sexual. “Or your _restraint?”_

“You’re in rare form,” Lena notes, hiding behind a mask of neutrality. It doesn’t work — Kara can see right through it now.

“Honestly, I’m just excited you're here,” Kara confesses, and it’s disarming. “I’m still not used to us mixing our lives, but it’s nice. I like it.”

Lena has to admit, she does too.

“I do too,” Lena murmurs.

“If you don’t want the pantydroppers, I can go find you something else,” Kara offers.

“I truly cannot believe you’re calling them that with a straight face,” Lena states. “What else is there?”

“Water, cheap beer that you’d hate, actual pink lemonade,” Kara rattles off. “And some leftover tequila; it’s good!”

Lena strongly doubts that.

The other options are no better — the Luthors would actually disown her for even once drinking cheap beer, but she’s also not trying to be sober at this thing — and thus Lena’s hand is forced.

“Honestly,” Lena exhales slowly through her nose, grimacing slightly. “I’ll just take a … pantydropper.”

“I knew you liked it!” 

Lena can feel the future migraine setting in already.

Kara wastes no time in fetching Lena’s drink, looking oddly proud the whole time. With her one available hand, she somehow manages to hold the cup and open the spigot at the same time — an effortless task for her long fingers, and Lena might get slightly distracted thinking about how those fingers have much better uses than a convenient party trick for the partygoer with a slinged shoulder.

“Mike only makes these like once a semester,” Kara informs her as the cup fills up to halfway. A calculated amount, Lena would imagine, judging by the mild amount in Kara’s own cup. “The recipe never turns out the same way twice. I think this is the best one yet.”

Oh, if this is the best version yet, Lena doesn’t even want to know what the others were like.

“These are really strong,” Kara warns, handing the fresh cup over. “Don’t have more than two before the sun goes down, if you wanna see it. Let’s head back outside.”

Outside on the back deck, waiting like a prowling housecat, is Jack. William is sitting in a lawn chair next to him, but stands as Jack opens his big mouth.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite power couple!” Jack spreads his arms wide. “Danvers, it’s been too long.”

“Hi, Jack,” Kara grins, getting enveloped in his bear hug.

“Lena doesn’t let me see you nearly enough,” Jack says. Lena scowls beside Kara.

“Aw, she just wants to keep me to herself,” Kara winks at him. “Not that I mind.”

“That’s just untrue,” Lena protests. To whose point is she protesting? Unclear. They’re both being obnoxious. The warm feeling in her chest as she watches her girlfriend and her best friend interact with ease is clearly due to annoyance. Not happiness. Because that would just be ridiculous.

“Kara, I’m sure you’ve seen him many times, but I’m not sure if you’ve formally met,” Jack says, gesturing to William next to him. “This is William Dey, the hottest piece of ass in National City.”

“And a saint for dealing with you,” Lena quips.

“Oh, don’t be sour, love,” Jack patronizes. “You had a good run as the hottest piece of ass in NC for the past two years, but no queen rules forever.”

Lena once again finds herself beyond impressed with Jack’s fortitude to survive her lethal Luthor-bitch glares.

“It’s great to officially meet you, William,” Kara smiles at him. “Don’t tell Al, but you’ve always been my favorite bartender. The drinks always taste better the way you make them.”

“My lips are sealed,” William promises. “Bartender confidentiality.”

“Good man,” Jack claps his hand against William’s chest.

“So when did you two start dating?” Kara asks.

“Oh, we’re not dating,” Jack says. “We’re just hooking up. Have been all year. The sleepovers and dinner dates are just accidental.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Kara’s flustered in an instant. “I thought—”

“—He’s joking,” Lena states, wrapping a hand over Kara’s bicep to halt her, simultaneously enjoying the thickness under her fingertips. “He’s making fun of us.”

Kara’s expression switches to that of great amusement. “Oh! Oh, that’s kinda funny.”

“Thank you, Kara,” Jack grins arrogantly at Lena, at the same time she says, “No, it’s not.”

“It’s a little funny, Lena,” Kara tells her, a sweet smile across her face.

Lena’s truly gone so fucking soft, because the corners of her mouth actually twist up a little in agreement.

They spend a bit longer chatting on the deck with Jack and William before the two men head inside to rejoin some other of William’s friends — leaving Lena on the deck with just Kara and a cup half-full of pink pantydropper.

Well, Kara’s now officially met both of Lena’s friends (as her girlfriend), and the sky is still standing.

“I really like Jack,” Kara informs her. “He’s so fun.”

“You have terrible taste, Danvers,” Lena gives an affectionate hum. “He’s a menace.”

“I managed to pull _Lena Luthor_ , so clearly, I have impeccable taste,” Kara chuckles. “And no, well maybe, but he’s good for you.”

“That he is,” Lena concedes.

It doesn’t take long for their chance encounter to be discovered by the rest of Kara’s friends either. They only make it a few steps down into the grass, muddied by many feet, before the deluge begins.

“Oh my god, Lena, hi!” Nia greets her like they’re old, warm friends, even though they _literally_ only met yesterday. 

“Hi, Nia,” Lena chuckles, returning her embrace with less hardship than last time.

Lena spots the red cup in Nia’s hand as they pull apart. “Are you having one of the …?”

“Oh, no, it’s just pink lemonade,” Nia chuckles, tilting the cup forward in a demonstration, not that it looks any different. “I didn’t know you were coming!”

“I—”

“Hello, Lena Luthor,” comes the voice of Brainy from behind Nia, as he strolls over to join them. “What a fortuitous appearance.” 

“Hello, Brainy,” Lena greets with a closed-lipped but genuine smile. She turns back to Nia. “It was a surprise. There was a bit of a communication issue, so Kara and I didn’t realize we were attending the same party.”

“Of course it was,” Brainy states. “Given your elusion to sharing information, and Kara’s propensity to use colloquialisms outside your preferred repertoire, it is of no surprise you two were unaware you were set to attend the same event. By my calculations, there was only a 14% chance you two would have realized prior to encountering the other in real-time.”

Kara gives Brainy a look of annoyed disbelief. “You got all that after meeting Lena _once_?”

“Why, of course,” Brainy nods. “It was hardly difficult.”

“Thanks, Brainy,” Kara sighs, sucking apologetically on her lip at Lena.

“You are welcome, Supergirl,” Brainy gives her a slow wink. “And thank you for introducing me to these delightful undergarment removers.” He then holds his cup up in salute, a few droplets splashing over the side.

Kara suddenly looks sheepish, blushing a little at Brainy’s term for them.

Brainy sways slightly before them in a slow circle. “I have never known their like!”

It hits Lena suddenly — Brainy is _drunk_. Or well on his way there.

“Hey, Brainy,” Nia sets a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s go get you some water.”

“Oh, I assure you, Miss Nal, I am quite hydr—”

“I’m thirsty, then,” Nia yanks Brainy off by his arm, mouthing something back at Kara.

Lena catches the tail end of a _“_ _thank you"_ fall from Kara’s lips, and Nia responds with a “ _you’re welcome_ _”_ as they disappear through the back door of the house.

“So …” Kara trails off, suddenly bashful. “I might’ve—”

“—gotten Brainy drunk?” Lena finishes. “I noticed.”

“He was sufficiently warned!” Kara objects. “It’s not my fault!”

“Sure, darling,” Lena purrs. “So, Danvers, what passes for fun around here?”

Kara’s eyes light up. “You really want to know?”

* * *

The rest of the day passes in a whirl.

They chat with a bunch of Kara’s friends, all casually sipping at their drinks. At one point, Kara shows Lena where the bathroom is and maybe they use the opportunity to make out a little (a lot), until Lucy’s heated voice interrupts them.

“No one takes that long to pee!” Lucy protests. “Kara, I swear if that’s you in there, I—”

Lena swings the door open and rolls out with an effortless grace, as if her lipstick isn’t smeared all over Kara’s lips and neck. “—all yours, Lane,” Lena winks.

Lucy just stares at Kara and shakes her head, trapping the blonde in the bathroom. “Clean yourself up, Alex is right behind me.”

Kara’s hand makes an audible clap against her face as she rubs vigorously at the skin.

“What?” comes Alex’s voice, joining them in the tiny space and further trapping Kara in.

“Nothing,” Lucy and Kara answer at the same time, but for all of Kara’s efforts, Alex still ends up spotting the red smudges on Kara’s throat, her face twisting into a scowl.

“Oh, for fuck’s sa—”

“Gotta go!” Kara exclaims, hopping quickly past her teammates to catch up with Lena, who’s already escaped down the stairs. “Have fun, you two!”

Kara just barely catches a grumble of “ _you_ clearly did,” before the party music overtakes her ears again.

“ _Lena_ ,” Kara hisses as they reconnect.

“What?” Lena shoots Kara an all-too-innocent smile.

“You’re evil,” Kara squints. “You set me up.”

“Hardly,” Lena scoffs. “I do believe you started it.”

Well, that might be true.

Kara then shows Lena how to play beer pong — not that she has to do much, as Kara is way more skilled than is reasonable at tossing a pong ball into plastic cups — and they handily sweep every opponent and permutation they face: Winn and Mike, Alex and Maggie, Winn and Alex, Mike and Russell, Andrea and Russell (that had been a fun one for Lena), even Lucy and Maggie. It takes James, paired with Mike, to eventually dethrone them in an overtime victory.

“Alright,” Lena sighs dramatically. “We had a good run, Danvers, but I think it’s clear we’re done here.”

“Well,” Kara bites her lip. “It was nice knowing you, Luthor. This was nice while it lasted.”

“I agree,” Lena says. “I’ll remember you always, Danvers.”

“And I’ll name my firstborn after you,” Kara continues. Her face quickly sours as her words hit her own ears. “I’m sorry, that was weird, I wouldn’t name my kid after my ex. That would be weird.”

“Tsk,” Lena clicks her tongue. “Guess that means we’ll have to stay together for now then.”

“I can live with that,” Kara chuckles.

“I’m going to go spend time with Jack for a bit,” Lena informs her, voice back to usual. “Find me later?”

“Catch you around, Luthor,” Kara says, smugly sauntering away. “I’ll see you soon.”

* * *

True to her word, Kara later finds Lena inside, stuck in conversation with a few other men she understands are peripheral friends of William’s, having been freshly abandoned by Jack and his full bladder.

“Want to grab a bit of fresh air?” Kara asks Lena, setting a hand on her hip. “I know somewhere private we could go.”

“Yes,” Lena all but sighs in relief at the convenient excuse to depart. “Please.”

Kara smiles at her, brilliant as always. “Follow me.”

They head up the stairs, and for a split-second Lena wonders with a mild flicker of annoyance if Kara just brought her up here to make out in the bathroom again, but then she opens a different door and suddenly they’re standing in someone’s — a boy’s, clearly, by the minimal and grimy décor — bedroom.

“This was Mike’s room last year,” Kara explains, carefully leading them over to the window on the far side of the room. She bends down to fiddle with the window lock; it’s old and it’s integrity is already questionable, so it’s no difficulty to operate with only one hand.

There’s a sharp metal click of success.

“There we go,” Kara says, springing the window open. Without any hesitation, she sticks a leg out the window, before the rest of her body follows out onto the first-story roof below. “This is okay, right? I promise we’re not that high up and it’s pretty safe.”

“It’s fine,” Lena promises, following behind. The roof is actually surprisingly flat, and she blessedly had worn booties instead of heels, so the stars are aligned for this to actually be pleasant (and safe).

Plus, Kara seems incredibly excited to share whatever this is with Lena, and Lena Luthor might just be a reckless fool for her Supergirl.

Speaking of reckless fools, Kara’s now up on the peak of the first-floor roof, eying the second-floor rooftop with a calculating look. The edge of the higher roof is just a bit taller than Kara’s waist, so she can’t easily sling a leg up onto it — it’ll require a little extra boost.

“Kara, be careful, please,” Lena requests. 

“It’s fine. Normally I do this with two free arms,” Kara tells her. “But I’ve still got my hops.”

She moves so quickly, Lena is powerless to stop her. 

In one fluid motion, Kara jumps as high as she can up past the second-floor edge. The balls of her feet land soundly against the shingles, her right arm catches her upper body from crashing forward at the last second, and Lena’s heart ends up somewhere in her throat, but Kara just smiles back at her like life is dandy.

“Kara Danvers!” Lena hisses.

“What?” Kara grins at her success. “You coming, Luthor?”

… Of course she is.

Lena elects to use her arms to push herself up far enough that she can sling a knee up onto the rooftop and go from there. It’s not the most graceful thing, but she feels absolutely no need to impress the idiot who could’ve just fallen off the roof while trying to jump levels, no matter how cute and wonderful said idiot is.

They get settled at the top, asses planted firmly on the peak, feet securely propped up, and each has one hand set over the shingles — close enough that their fingertips brush together.

“What do you think?” Kara asks. “Pretty great view, right?”

Lena has to admit — it’s beautiful. 

From their vantage point on the roof, they can see all the skyscrapers downtown clustered together, and the urban sprawl that follows around the sides. The sun is setting slightly to the side of the city skyline, bathing the entire sky in red and blue and gold. 

Below them is the backyard, now only populated by plastic cups and some stray lawn furniture. Underneath of them the heartbeat of the party can still be felt; the vibration of the bassline, and a cacophony of muffled, indistinct voices.

It feels like being a piece of a whole.

“Kara, this is incredible,” Lena says, voice full of awe. “I understand what you mean.”

“Right?” Kara exhales. “Usually it’s dark out when I’m up here, and the city buildings are all lit up like stars, but I actually love watching the sunset too. It … reminds me of Krypton, a little.”

Lena nods. 

“Do you ever think about going back?” Lena asks softly. “To Krypton?”

“No,” Kara says. “I don’t.”

Lena stares at a flock of birds flying above the skyline, headed home. “I hate Metropolis,” she offers. “I think I’d be content never going back there.”

“I know,” Kara murmurs. “Is there a particular reason, or is it just the whole vibe?”

“Mm,” Lena hums. “Both. I have zero privacy there — both from my family and the media obsessed with them. The pressures are heavier. And while my family may have their own _methods_ of dulling it, it comes at a price.”

“Methods?” Kara asks. “Like Lex’s coke thing?”

“Yes. You know, I actually tried it once with him, just to piss Lillian off,” Lena says. “It worked, but I was even more furious at myself afterwards. Despite that, there was still the temptation to do it again. I worry … my family has some colorful vices. I’ve spent my whole life trying to avoid most of them, but what if it’s just a matter of time?”

Kara pauses in thought before responding. “I think everyone has their issues to work through, and drugs are just a way to cope, but it doesn’t actually solve anything permanently, you know? Just because everyone has their own shade of struggle doesn’t mean it was right that you had to grow up with what you did. And it doesn’t mean you’re going to turn out like the rest of your family either.”

Lena doesn’t respond, her brain still getting accustomed to processing her emotions so immediately as to engage in discussion about them.

“Everyone’s got their own shit,” Kara continues. “It doesn’t mean that Lillian’s right to treat you how she does, or that you should have to babysit Lex either. We’re all accountable for working through our own stuff, and not just transferring it to someone else. That’s why I’m so proud of you, Lena.

Lena’s heart skips a beat. “For what?”

“For going to therapy,” Kara says. “I won’t pretend that I know exactly what you’ve gone through, but I do get that it’s hard to ask for help, especially about something so raw and personal. But you’re doing it anyway. You should be proud of yourself too.”

Lena swallows roughly. “I … I still hate it, though. Therapy.”

Kara chuckles. “That’s okay. I don’t exactly enjoy it either — kinda like cardio, you know? It sucks during but feels better afterwards, and it’s keeping me alive and healthy and all, so I guess I can deal.”

“Like cardio,” Lena agrees.

Kara turns to look at her with the softest expression Lena’s ever seen on her face (and there are many times over that Lena’s standard for that has been rewritten).

“It’s really nice to talk to you,” Kara confesses. “I feel like I can tell you things and you just get them, you know. You get _me_.”

“Thank you, Kara,” Lena bows her head, then turns to reciprocate Kara’s gaze. “Truly. I feel the same way; you make me feel … seen.”

“I’m glad,” Kara says. “Because you have such a beautiful soul, Lena, and it deserves to be seen.”

Lena does the only thing she can think of — she uses her free hand to tilt Kara’s jaw towards her own, and captures Kara’s lips in a searing kiss, determined to leave her mark there. To show her love.

It’s only the first of many kisses. They continue for a decent period of time, until Kara gets a little over-excitable and leans too far one way, and is forced to catch herself on Lena’s thigh. Lena grabs her shirt on instinct.

Their eyes meet, both of them having relinquished their own hold on the roof to grab the other, and they just laugh. Idiots, both of them.

“Nice jersey, by the way,” Lena says, once Kara’s back to steady. 

Lena smooths out the wrinkles that her grip put in the ‘M’ and ‘R’ of ‘Meteors’. She’s always enjoyed the feeling of Kara’s hard body under her hands, and today is no exception.

“Thanks,” Kara smiles softly, quite content under Lena’s touch. “Better than mine?”

“No,” Lena hums. “No, you look best in your own.”

Lena looks back out over the city skyline; the sun has set further now, leaving a trail of dark crimson in its wake. She shivers as a sudden cool breeze washes over them.

“Are you cold?” Kara notes. “You just shivered.”

“I’m fine,” Lena promises. 

Kara gives no indication that she heard Lena; her left arm is somehow already out of the sling and resting in her lap.

“Kara, no, you don’t—” Lena begins to protest.

“Hey, Lena,” Kara says abruptly, tone strong as steel. “I’m your girlfriend. Let me do this for you. Besides—”

There’s a pause as Kara yanks off her sweatshirt and the jersey overtop of it all in one fluid motion, leaving her in only a sports bra and the left sleeve.

Hm, alright.

“—I like it when you wear my clothes,” Kara finishes, handing Lena the tangle of fabric. “Can you pull the jersey off?”

Lena does so and hands Kara back the jersey, which she tosses back on in a hurry.

“Aren’t you cold?” Lena asks, reveling in the sight of Kara’s bare arms.

“I run warm,” Kara smiles, resetting her sling. “I actually only wore the sweatshirt so I had something to give you on the walk home from Al’s. But there’s no reason I can’t start now.”

“You really wore this all day just so you could give it to me later?” Lena asks, shaking the offending item as she speaks.

“Well, I didn’t wear it for my health, Lena,” Kara jokes. “It was warm all day, and we were in direct sun.”

“Is that another way of telling me you’ve been sweating in this all day?” Lena gives her an unimpressed look.

“Stop looking for an excuse not to put it on and just let yourself have nice things,” Kara quips, and Lena’s ability to find an argument in anything fails her.

Well then.

So Lena puts the sweatshirt on — it’s warm, and soft, and smells like Kara. It’s a bit like a constant hug. Kara leans into Lena’s side, and Lena reciprocates without thinking.

They sit in silence for a little while, content to watch the end of the sunset, the city lights glowing brighter in its absence.

“Did you know Andrea and Mike slept together last year?” Lena asks Kara at one point.

“Oh, yeah,” Kara laughs. “I actually got a little mad at him for it at the time, for sleeping with the enemy and all.”

“Hypocrite,” Lena bites, but there’s no edge to it.

“I know,” Kara shakes her head. “I know. The universe definitely has a sense of humor.”

Given the number of times Lena’s unexpectedly run into Kara Danvers, at both the worst and best times to do so — today included — Lena has to agree.

“That it does. So, is Mike aware that his former roommate is now courting her?” Lena asks. “Or will that be a problem later?”

“Nah,” Kara exhales. “They’re fine, they’re already tunnel buddies.”

Lena freezes and looks at her with an eyebrow arched dangerously high.

“ _What_ did you just say?”

Kara swallows almost comically slow. “T-tunnel buddies. You know, like, uh, when two people sleep with the same … but at different times. Like, uh—” she pauses as if paralyzed in fear by Lena’s potential wrath, but then is struck by a moment of inspired salvation. “—like Jack and I!”

 _Really, Kara, that’s the best point you had to to make?_ Lena glares at her girlfriend.

“Have I ever told you fuckboy is not a cute look for you?” she quips.

“I’m sorry.” Kara actually does look very apologetic and Lena decides to take pity on her. But she’ll get the last word, of course.

“So does that mean Veronica Sinclair and I are tunnel buddies?” Lena asks.

“Not technically, she was a pillow-princess.”

“Leslie Willis, then?”

Kara’s face darkens in a mix of displeasure and disgust at the idea. “You don’t play fair.”

“And here I thought you relished the challenge, darling,” Lena teases.

“Well, you could push me off the roof,” Kara says, as if mulling it over. “So I am _not_ going to piss you off any further.”

Lena gives her a look, chin tilted dramatically down while her eyes look upwards through her lashes. “Can’t you fly, Supergirl?”

“Only on the court,” Kara winks, and Lena gives her good shoulder a playful shove.

“I cannot believe I fell for your whole cocky act,” Lena rolls her eyes. “Only to find out you’re a massive dork.”

“I’m not a dork!” Kara pouts.

“You are,” Lena states. “But it’s a good thing. That bravado might’ve gotten you into my bed, but it never would’ve taken you any further. You, Kara Danvers, and that persistent, kind, dorky heart of yours was what truly won me over.”

“I’m glad, Lena,” Kara smiles at her softly, and even in the brisk evening air, Lena feels warm in that moment. (Plus, the sweatshirt does actually help.)

Lena tilts her head up for a kiss and Kara is more than happy to oblige. Twice. Three times. Then a few more.

A brief silence passes between them after they break apart.

“Why do you do it?” Lena asks.

“Hm?” Kara’s brow crinkles. “Do what?”

Lena waves an idle hand out in front of her. “The whole arrogant fuckboy act.”

“Oh,” Kara murmurs. “I don’t think anyone’s ever asked me that, directly at least.”

Lena stays silent, sensing that Kara needs the time to gather her thoughts.

“I didn’t intend to do it, not at first,” Kara confesses. “It just kinda … happened. Freshman year, basketball started to go really well for me, and I don’t know, I definitely let it go to my head a little. I still felt like _me_ , though. For a little while.”

Kara takes a deep breath before continuing. “But then the more the hype got built up — the more I became ‘Supergirl’ — it almost seemed like everyone, except my friends, _wanted_ me to be this arrogant, detached person. So I guess I kind of gave up trying to convince them I wasn’t and just … fell into it.”

For someone who’s spent her entire life fighting against people’s expectations of her, Lena _gets_ it.

It’s felt in every moment, every new acquaintance, every interaction. Ever present. And one bad day, one moment of frustration, one second of fear? That's all it takes to slip up and become the beast the hunters are waiting for.

It’s _exhausting_.

“A self-fulfilling prophecy,” Lena murmurs.

“Yeah,” Kara sighs, looking out over the dim horizon. “I don’t really think anyone should be hero-worshipped like that; it just seems like a good way to break people’s hearts, on both sides. I have no idea how Kal handles it all.”

Kara turns to face Lena, heart laid bare in the cradle of her steel blue eyes.

“That’s actually something that scares me about going pro,” Kara tells her. “The obvious one, of course, is being a bust, but the other one is: what if I do amazing and turn into someone I don’t even recognize? What if I lose myself on the way?”

Lena sucks on her teeth, words just barely restrained behind her tongue — words she’s never told a single soul (even her new therapist that keeps being annoyingly helpful).

“I get it,” Lena gulps. “You don’t want to lose your humanity.”

“Yeah,” Kara exhales. “… do you think I could?”

“No,” Lena answers honestly. “I mean, yes, I think anyone can. But I don’t think _you_ will. You’ll do and be whoever you want to be — you’re stronger than steel, Kara, and you have a pure heart. That’s all you need.”

“I don’t though,” Kara gulps. “I don’t have a pure heart. I think terrible things sometimes. I still feel so much anger and loss after my parents, Lena, it’s …”

“I understand,” Lena hums. “I do. But you carry it differently. The world has been cruel to you and yet you still have a gentle heart. You see the best in people, in life, even though you have no reason to. That’s the difference. It makes you human, Kara.”

The sun has completely vanished now, leaving them both under the solace of the night sky.

Lena takes a sharp breath among the silence. “Besides, you’ll never lose yourself fully — Alex would pull your head out of your ass long before you sunk to that point.”

“That’s … probably very accurate,” Kara chuckles softly. “I really do love her. I never thought something so good could come from something so terrible, and yet …”

It’s the young rose growing in the heart of the graveyard, lively red flourishing amongst a mass of cold, grey stone. The defiance of loss.

Lena doesn’t respond for a long time, lost in thought.

“I don’t want to lose mine either,” Lena confesses, voice barely a whisper. It’s a wonder Kara can even hear her, but Lena credits it to Kara’s superior hearing and the fact they’re practically sitting on top of each other.

“Your humanity?” Kara’s head whips over to face her. “You won’t.”

“You don’t know that,” Lena says. “Humanity gets sacrificed in my family’s line of work. I’ve watched it happen over and over. It happened to Lionel, and Lillian — as terrible as she may be, I’m sure she wasn’t always that way — and I worry that it’s now happening to Lex. Metropolis might as well be a morgue for the souls of the Luthor family; a prison of our own design.”

“You’re a good person, Lena. You—”

“Good people can still do bad things, Kara,” Lena states.

“ _I know that._ ” 

There’s a darkness to Kara’s words, so brief that Lena almost thinks it’s a figment of her imagination, yet just saturated enough to reaffirm its existence, and Lena doesn’t know what to make of it for now, so she just files it away for later.

“I just mean,” Kara continues, sounding back like her regular self. “You try to do good things, Lena. You’re not always going to make the right choice every time, but you _try_ to, and that’s important. You want to help people. And you’re good at it too.”

Lena huffs. “I can’t imagine anyone has ever complimented a Luthor for being helpful. It really contradicts our whole image of profiting off the sick and vulnerable.”

“You’re not like the rest of your family,” Kara says. “It’s easy to be apathetic and stop caring. It’s hard to keep trying, especially after the times you fail. But you’re okay to fail, Lena, and that’s what makes you special — you might hate failure, I know you do — but afterwards, you still stand back up.”

Lena lets out a rueful chuckle. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

“I hope one day you do believe me,” Kara says softly.

“I … I’m working on it,” Lena assures. “Have you ever noticed the cut below my eyebrow?”

“Yeah,” Kara admits. “The first time I saw you without makeup on. I didn’t want to say anything though; I try not to ask people about their scars, after … you know.”

Every muscle in Lena’s body tightens like a spring coil.

“Fuck, Kara,” Lena frowns, brow furrowed. “Should I not have asked about yours? After the elevator, I thought—”

“No, you’re okay,” Kara promises. “I wanted you to ask. That’s why I brought it up.”

“Oh, alright,” Lena sighs, muscles relaxing again. “Well, I got this scar as a child, after the Luthors adopted me. See, when I was young, I used to worship Lex; he was my hero. I wanted to impress him with everything I could.”

Lena takes a breath before continuing. “I would practice playing chess for hours just so I could beat him. I would draw up inventions and hide them from him, until they were absolutely perfect — I _needed_ them to be perfect to get his approval.”

“Nothing in the Luthor household was given freely,” Lena explains. “It was always earned or exchanged, like a business deal. So I learned how to compete with Lex mentally, and I did so with great success. But no matter what, he was still nine years older than me — I couldn’t compete with him physically, though I was still determined to try. I think I was seven or so, and I was chasing him through the Manor, but I ended up falling and knocking my face against a table corner.”

Kara sucks in a sharp breath. “Ouch.”

“Yes,” Lena nods, biting her lower lip. “The impact split my eyebrow open. Lex panicked, worried that Lionel would blame him, and Lillian was furious with me for running in the house — but it was fine for Lex, of course — as I could’ve broken something. It was a mess. But Lionel … he was the perfect father at that moment.”

A wistful smile creeps over Lena’s face. “He took me to the hospital himself, not one of the caretakers,” Lena says. “As the doctor was patching it back together, he took my hand and talked to me the entire time. I’ll always remember what he said: _‘Pain and fear are inconsequential, it’s fortitude and confidence that define people like us. Do not concern yourself with the rest. You’re a Luthor, Lena, and you’ll always rise above_ ’ … It’s always stayed with me.”

“He’s right; you are strong,” Kara says. “It’s okay to stumble and fall, you just have to stand up eventually. I used to tell Alex that all the time, back when she was struggling, just sitting next to her on the floor of the bathroom. I don’t know if she even remembers it, but I do. It’s something my dad used to say to me.”

“Do you miss him?” Lena asks.

“Everyday,” Kara rasps, voice thick with emotion. “You?”

“I know I shouldn’t, all things considered,” Lena exhales. “But I do too.”

“That's okay, you know,” Kara murmurs.

“Mm-hm.” Lena’s not sure if she believes it or not.

Another silence stretches between them, contemplative in nature.

“Lena …” Kara says slowly. “You know how you have a really good memory? Well, do you ever remember why we didn’t get along in the first place?”

Lena’s eyebrows parse together. “You don’t remember?”

“No, I’m sorry,” Kara says. “It’s all kind of blurred together for me. I know there was the spilled drink, and the parking lot, and all that, but …”

The look of frustration on Kara’s face is truly endearing, and Lena has to bite down on her lip to keep from laughing.

“I-I do,” Lena says, trying and failing to hide to hide her mirth.

“What?” Kara’s eyes narrow. “Why are you laughing? Did I do something embarrassing?”

“No, it’s just …” Lena tosses her head back, exposing her neck for a moment. “It seems so trivial now.”

“What was it?”

Lena turns to look at Kara, who’s staring at her intensely, brow crinkled in the way that makes Lena want to run her fingertips over it to smooth out the worry.

“You stole my seat,” Lena states.

The crinkle only grows deeper. “I _what?”_

“Freshman year, in our first class together,” Lena recounts. “The second day of class, when I arrived, you were sitting in my seat.”

“Your seat?” Kara echoes. “There were no assigned seats?”

“Yes, Danvers, but everyone knows not to move seats after the first day,” Lena retorts. “It disrupts the entire arrangement.”

“Are you serious?” Kara asks defensively. “Lena, it was only the second day!”

“Yes, I’m serious,” Lena hisses. “You stole my seat — and even worse — tried to talk to me afterwards!”

“I was trying to be your friend!” Kara explains. “I—wait, oh my god, you literally told me ‘I’m not here to make friends’. You did, didn’t you?”

“I did,” Lena nods. “Not that it prevented you from pestering me in the slightest. You even got us yelled at by the professor for talking in class.”

“Well you wouldn’t answer me! It was rude, Lena,” Kara says. “I wanted to be your friend because I liked you!”

Lena frowns. “What?”

“I liked you,” Kara says, softer this time. “I saw you and I thought you were stunning, but then I saw your eyes, and it just seemed like you were … kinda lonely. I remembered how cold that felt after my parents died, and I don’t know, I wanted to help.”

“I didn’t need to be saved, Danvers,” Lena bites. “I was doing just fine.”

“I know and I’m sorry,” Kara murmurs. “I’ve grown a lot since then, and I know now you can’t save people, you can only help support them.”

“Thank you.”

“And for what’s it’s worth,” Kara continues. “I’m sorry I stole your seat too. I moved because I wanted to sit next to you, and I actually thought your seat was one over.”

Lena gives her an incredulous look. “You’re serious?”

Kara nods.

Lena shakes her head. “So we spent the past two years hating each other, all because you sat in the wrong chair?”

“And because you were too miffed to just ask me to move,” Kara adds.

“Well, maybe I didn’t want to,” Lena states.

“What?” Kara’s brow crinkles again.

“Don’t get me wrong, Danvers, you were incredibly annoying to be around,” Lena says. “But you were also a lot of fun to toy with. I actually enjoyed pissing you off; you were always so expressive in your reactions. I’d never met anyone who was so openly genuine, even with their dislike.”

“Dislike that was only there because you were mean to me first,” Kara pipes up.

“You still never should have stolen my seat,” Lena states. “But regardless, our rivalry was actually kind of … fun. I enjoyed it.”

“I … I kind of enjoyed it too,” Kara admits, a soft smile on her face. “I actually used to think of different ways to annoy you when I was showering.”

Lena bites the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling too widely, knowing she had done the same exact thing. Repeatedly.

Kara laughs. “Oh, man. I’m just now realizing how much time I spent thinking about you. Oh, wow.”

“Mm, I’d insult you for that,” Lena hums. “But I think that would only make me a hypocrite.”

Kara shoots her a cocky smile. “So you thought I was cute too?”

Lena rolls her eyes, but answers nevertheless. “Admittedly, there _might_ have been some sexual tension underlying our dynamic.”

“Might?” Kara snorts. “You jumped me in the hallway outside a dive bar bathroom, Luthor. That’s, like, a _catastrophic_ level of sexual tension.”

“I’d like to remind you that you’re on a rooftop, alone, with me right now,” Lena threatens. “With only one arm to catch yourself with.”

“Nah, you’d never,” Kara scoffs. “Because then you’d never get to see what comes next.”

A small burst of adrenaline pulses through Lena’s veins, unable to anticipate or deduce what Kara’s referring to. “And just what comes next, Danvers?”

“I don’t know,” comes Kara’s earnest response. But it’s a clear insinuation of a _future_. “But I’m excited to see.”

“I … I’m excited too,” Lena admits. She genuinely means it.

She opens her mouth to tell Kara just that, when the sound of a new voice stops her.

“Are you sure they’re up here?” Jack asks. “The bed looks undefiled. It’s far more likely Lena’s already snuck them out and back to her place.”

“No, they’re here, just not in the room,” comes a female voice. 

_Lucy_ , Lena realizes with a start, and she turns to face Kara with eyes widened in alarm. Kara just shrugs at her, eyes equally as wide.

“Jimmy said they’re on the roof,” Lucy continues.

“The roof?” Jack asks. “You’re telling me Lena Luthor is voluntarily sitting on weathered shingles right now?”

So she is.

“Kara likes to come up here,” Lucy continues. “Come on, Spheer, don’t tell me you’re a pussy.”

“Forgive me for being tall,” Jack huffs, “Not all of us have the height of a toddler.”

“You sure whine like one,” Lucy retorts.

“God, where have you been the past three years?” Jack asks. “If I had known you were such a raging bitch, Lane, I would’ve tried to be your friend years ago.”

“You’ve still got time,” Lucy informs him. “And I’d love to get some dirt on Luthor.”

“Only in exchange for some of Kara’s,” Jack agrees. “It’s the best way to ruffle Lena’s feathers.”

The voices have been growing noticeably louder, and sure enough, Lucy’s head pops up around the roof corner below, Jack a moment behind her.

“Hey lovebirds,” Lucy greets. “How’s the roof sex?”

“We’re not having roof sex,” Kara states, but it’s dangerously close to a pout.

“Lena and roof sex? Please,” Jack says. “She’d never hookup somewhere this … grimy.”

Lena’s mind immediately shoots to the bathroom of Club Acrata; she knows Kara’s does too.

Almost on cue, Kara snorts, and Lena actually does briefly consider pushing her off the roof, and following right behind after her.

“Something to share with the class, Lover Girl?” Lucy calls Kara out.

“No,” Kara gulps. “Why are you guys up here?”

“You two might want to come back down,” Lucy says. “We ordered Chinese food and the Meteors game is st—“

“Oh, shoot!” Kara exclaims, hopping to her feet. Lena watches her in mild alarm, but thankfully Kara keeps her balance.

“—okay, so Kara’s in,” Lucy states. “Luthor, you comin’? Jimmy and Dreamer just came back from the liquor store. Got a bottle of scotch with your name on it.”

“Well,” Lena sighs, rising to her feet too. “How can I say no to scotch?”

* * *

To be honest, looking back on it, the rest of the night becomes a dark fog for Lena, except for one particular moment. 

Most of the partygoers dissipate, leaving only Kara’s friends, Lena’s own friends, Russell, and two unnamed men than Lena suspects are Russell’s roommates. Everyone is clustered around the comically large TV inside, sitting on an abundance of couches pushed far too close to the screen. The Meteors game plays in the middle of it all.

While Kara secures a spot for them to sit on one of the couches, Lena heads into the kitchen to plate some of the food Lucy had mentioned. She loads one plate up with potstickers (that were clearly ordered for Kara), and a variety of the other dishes on a plate for herself.

“Hey,” a deep voice comes from behind Lena, right as she’s finishing up.

Lena looks over her shoulder. “James. I hear you’re the one I should be thanking for the scotch.”

“Yeah,” James leans up against the fridge, towering over it. “Kara mentioned it was your favorite.”

“It is,” Lena nods. There’s an obvious tension to the way James is standing, not hostile, but present enough that Lena’s eyes narrow at him. “Everything alright?”

“You know,” James says, crossing his arms loosely. “My mom called me to chat this morning, all excited. The craziest thing happened.”

“Oh?” Lena hums, concentrating on pouring herself a bit of scotch.

“Yeah,” James says. “She works for a non-profit for widowed military spouses. This morning they had an anonymous donor donate a rather generous sum of money, no name or explanation or anything. Really odd.”

“Are you accusing me of something?” Lena raises an eyebrow. “I have an alibi; Kara can attest to it.”

“Accusing, no,” James says. “Just thought you might find it interesting.”

“Mm,” Lena hums, keeping her face a mask of mystery. “Metropolis is home to many philanthropists, it’s quite fortunate one found your mother’s non-profit.” 

“Yeah, it’s lucky,” James agrees. “But the coincidence is … a little funny, don’t you think? After our conversation yesterday?”

“I’m afraid I can’t help you, James,” Lena sighs. “I made no such donation.”

(Not technically a lie — Jess did.)

“So it’s not a peace offering, then?” James questions. “Because as far as olive branches go — this one sounds like it was more the size of an olive _tree_.”

“Look, James, I know there’s no way to undo the injustice your family suffered at the hands of mine,” Lena states. “And I wouldn’t try to cheapen it by suggesting that there’s a price to be put on it. Whoever this donor is, whatever their motives … maybe it’s just a matter of putting something good into the universe.”

“And proving me wrong in the process?” James asks.

“I can’t attest to the motives of an unknown person,” Lena says. “I don’t have an answer for you.”

“Well, if it was you,” James peers at her. “Or someone else with money and a knack for secrets and lying … I’d say thank you to them. You’re right, the past can’t be undone, but that doesn’t mean the future has to stay the same.”

Lena nods, granting him a small smile. “We agree on that point then. Is that all?”

“Not quite,” James says, one hand now fiddling around in his pocket. When he pulls out his hand, his phone is palmed in it. “Actually, I wanted to show you something.”

Lena takes a deep inhale to keep herself level. “Yes?”

“I hope you don’t mind; I usually ask beforehand,” James starts to ramble, flipping through something on his phone until he finds what he's looking for. He quickly spins it in his palm and hands it to Lena. “But I didn’t want to risk losing the moment.”

Lena looks down at James’ phone in her hands; glowing from the screen is a photo. 

The shot is clearly taken from the front side of a house, either on the sidewalk or maybe further back. Centered in the frame are two figures sitting on the peak of the roof, their backs to the camera, looking out over the sunset illuminating the sky behind them. The foreground is mostly in shadow, but the background is a brilliant cascade of crimson, gold, and sky blue.

Despite the shadow over them, small details of the two people are visible — a Clark Kent jersey on the one on the left, and the side profile of the one on the right glancing over at her partner. The lines of their arms intersect somewhere beyond the roofline, and even though there’s a clear space between the two bodies, the framing is undeniably romantic.

It’s them.

Her and Kara — their first photo together. And it’s somehow perfect.

“James, this is …” Lena gawks down at the photo, her eyebrows pinched together.

Lena recognizes it for the peace offering it is.

“I know I didn’t have your consent when I took it, so I’m happy to delete it,” James offers. “I’d ask you at least show Kara first, but—”

“—Absolutely not,” Lena states. “This is incredible, James. You’ve got a gift.”

“Thank you,” James gives a bashful chuckle. “I can thank my dad for that. He, uh, gave me my first camera.”

“He sounds like a good father,” Lena smiles softly.

“He was.”

“Would you ever want to do this professionally?” Lena asks, glancing back down at the unbelievable photo in her palm.

“Be a photographer?” James asks. “I’d love to, actually. Either sports photography or photojournalism, I haven’t quite decided yet.”

“Well, whatever you decide, I’m sure the world will be better off for it,” Lena says. “I highly suspect this won’t be the last photo of yours I see. James … would you mind sending me this?”

“I hope not,” James chuckles. “And of course. Text it to yourself.” He gestures out at his phone in Lena’s hand, giving her full permission to use the device.

“Thank you,” Lena says. She quickly sends the photo to her unsaved number, well aware that she’s indirectly given James a way to contact her now. It feels like progress for them both.

James’ eyes meet hers as he takes the offered device back. “You really do love her, don’t you? … I saw it on your face, when you were looking at the photo.”

“I-I do,” Lena admits. She draws a deep breath and tilts her chin up. “I’ve never met anyone else like her.”

“Yeah,” James nods. “There’s only one Kara Danvers.”

Speak of the devil …

“Lena! James!” booms Kara’s voice from the bowels of the house. “Get in here! We’re all doing tequila shots!”

James and Lena share a moment of laughter between them.

“And thank god for that,” Lena shakes her head.

“Shall we?” James asks, holding his hands out to carry the plates of food, leaving Lena free to grab the cups.

“You know, James,” Lena accepts his offer of assistance. “Something tells me we don’t really have a choice.”

* * *

Lena wakes up feeling like death has started to hand out free samples.

There’s at least three knives lodged in her brain, each one sharper than the next, yet none of them are kind enough to show themselves. Her stomach might as well be filled with rocks — the sharp, inedible kind. Even her skin hurts.

And why is it so fucking bright? She has blackout curtains for this express purpose …

Oh, that’s why. She’s not in her bed — she’s in Kara’s.

Kara, who’s right beside her. Lena would never complain about having Kara in bed with her, but maybe, just maybe, she could turn down her body heat a few degrees? Or up? Lena can’t really tell if she’s hot or cold right now … maybe both.

“Kara,” Lena mumbles, forcing herself up into a sitting position. “What the fuck happened last night?”

“Hngh,” Kara huffs, rolling over onto her back to face Lena. Her eyes are squinted so tightly, they might as well be closed. “Lena? I thought …why are we in my bed? I thought I ordered a ride-share home from Rip’s to your place?”

“No, we walked …” Lena murmurs. “You tried to race James home, I think.”

Kara gives her legs a little stretch. “Mm, sounds about right. I don’t remember that at all. And what happened to the ride-share I ordered?”

“I …” Lena trails off, calling on her memory, only for it to fail her. “I don’t know. I can’t really remember. Do you?”

“No,” Kara says. “The last thing I remember was the—”

“—tequila shots,” Lena finishes. “Who’s fucking idea was that? You … you called us to come take them. Was it yours?”

“No, no,” Kara quickly assures. “It was Lucy’s. But we only did one round — there wasn’t enough tequila for more. We must’ve had something else.”

Lena gives her tongue a few experiment flicks around her mouth. It’s terribly dry and tastes of rum.

“Rum,” Lena declares. “Jack made us all drink some of that dark rum, in the strange bottle.”

Kara neglects to respond for a little bit, and Lena’s forced to nudge her back awake as a pulse check.

The blonde lets out a groan, informing the world she does, in fact, still live. Lena feels that groan on a spiritual level.

“I don’t know exactly what did us so dirty,” Kara states. “But I picked a terrible time to forget my hangover drink trick.”

“I don’t either,” Lena decides. “But I do know one thing.”

Kara’s head perks up from between the pillows. “What? Oh, bad idea.”

“That I do, deeply, truly, hate your friends,” Lena moans, clutching her head. There’s an overly-loud thump as Kara falls halfway out of the bed on a mission.

“Yeah? Well, I hate yours too,” Kara mumbles, head already in the nearest trash bin, making a noise somewhere between retching and laughter.

Lena can’t help but give a little chuckle too, even though it just hastens her demise. 

The two of them remain in their respective positions — Kara crumpled on the floor around the small trashcan, and Lena sitting up in bed with her head in her hand, combing through her phone as she tries to piece their evening back together. The last thing she remembers in full clarity is the photo of her and Kara from James ending up in her messages. At least she has that.

A steady, pallid tranquility falls over the room for an indeterminable amount of time.

And then Lena’s phone rings out loudly, a very unwelcome intrusion into their happily miserable morning. A single glance at it is all it takes for Lena’s already-tortured stomach to drop to the floor.

“Lex?” Lena answers. “Why are you calling so early?”

“Oh, it’s not morning, dear sister, for me _or_ you,” Lex chuckles. “Are you hungover?”

“Are you not for once?” Lena retorts.

“You know what the best cure for a hangover is,” Lex says. “To just keep drinking.”

“Thanks for the life advice,” Lena says. “I’ll keep that in mind when I want to become a raging alcoholic—”

“—she says, ignoring her own hypocrisy,” Lex quips. “Did you not pay attention to all the binge drinking PSAs?”

Kara lets out a little whimper from the floor.

“Why are you calling, Lex?” Lena sighs.

“Ah, well, straight to business then,” Lex says. “Do you have plans Saturday?”

“Yes,” Lena replies automatically. She’ll certainly have work to do, then a girlfriend, in that order.

“Great!” In a moment of blood-curdling contrast, Lex’s tone swings from false delight into something deep and uncompromising. _“Clear them.”_

There’s no way to misconstrue it; the honeymoon has officially come to an end.

* * *


End file.
